


The Shadow Over Brockton Bay

by Temeritous



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow, 亜人 - 三浦追儺 & 桜井画門 | Ajin - Miura Tsuina & Sakurai Gamon (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Canon-Typical Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, shard-altered psychology, tags to be added as we go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-02-28 17:43:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 86,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18761293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Temeritous/pseuds/Temeritous
Summary: Taylor died and triggered and resurrected in the locker. She is an Ajin, one of the immortals, armed with an unparalleled ability to control the Invisible Black Matter that gives them life. Follow her as she lives and dies (a lot), and begins to understand the divergence between what she used to be and what she has become.Ajin fusion/altpower, no knowledge of Ajin is needed to read.





	1. Draugr 1.1

**Author's Note:**

> Time for a new fic!
> 
> I'll be honest here: I've never actually read/watched anything from Ajin. I did read and love a few fanfictions using the setting/idea in much the same way I have here, and I read through the pertinent parts of the wiki. If I got something wrong, either the wiki did me dirty or I pulled some shard bullshit to change it so it worked my way.
> 
> POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR: suicide and self-harm. Neither of these concepts in the story is backed by the usual psychology (depression), but they do technically happen. PM me for more information (or leave a review if you don't have an account) on what happens if you think this may affect you.

It was harder than I thought it would be to find a sufficiently tall building. Most of the publicly accessible buildings in Brockton Bay are only a few stories tall, and that's not nearly high enough for what I had in mind. The school was only three floors, and it would be pretty pathetic anyway. The library was three, the top floor off limits to visitors. The hospital was a nice ten, but roof access was heavily restricted for pretty much the exact reason I needed it.

The hotel roof I was standing on was twelve stories high. Looking down at the ground, I felt like I should feel... something. One of the feelings that had been missing lately. There was just a strange churning in my stomach, a generalized anxiety. What if this wasn't tall enough? What if I didn't die on impact?

Coryn put one claw on my shoulder, reminding me of her presence. I looked back at her pitch-black form and smiled.

I stepped over the edge.

* * *

I was right to worry; the impact wasn't enough. I went too limp, let the wind turn me around too much. I hit almost completely feet-first, which meant I got to feel every shattering bone and every ounce of liquefied tissue. I didn't scream only because there wasn't enough air in the whole world to fuel it.

Coryn landed next to me, her wings folding back as silent as the barn owl her shape was modeled after. The last thing I saw in my human body was her talons closing over my skull, crushing it.

Then I was Coryn, twice as big as my human self and infinitely more powerful. That's a little bit misleading; I was always Coryn when she was within my range, but while my human body was dead I was only Coryn.

Coryn looks like Blasto bred an owl with a human. She has a barn owl's unsettling face and eyes, two massive wings with hand-like clawed tips, like bat fingers, and a very human lower half if you ignored the bird feet. She is matte-black, untextured when I had tried to pet her. Your hand encounters resistance, but it doesn't feel anything. She's silent and, as far as I can tell, invisible to everyone but me.

I gathered the broken body together as well as I could, growing two extra arms under Coryn's wings to grab up the corpse. I beat my wings and flew up, back to the roof for now. It was already beginning.

The little black particles gathered into strips and wrapped around my body. When it was completely mummified, the strips melted together and then disintegrated, leaving a perfectly pristine body behind. A second later, I came gasping back to life, my eyes opened and staring. Coryn leaned over me, a curious tilt to her head.

I should stop pretending that we're separate. It can't be doing great things for my mental health.

Not every black particle was used in my resurrection; some lingered, floating like dust motes in a sunbeam. I could feel every one of them, from the smallest speck to the largest conglomerated blob. I could feel when they brushed up against things, the same way I could feel what Coryn felt, but that was the only sense I got from them. It was like having hundreds, thousands of tiny fingers separate from the rest of my body, and just as easy to control.

I didn't know what they were, or why they only appeared in numbers when I died. I knew that they were some aspect of my power, that Coryn was made of them, that I could make more - with an effort. It was easier to get an amount of them by dying, and dying served my secondary purpose anyway.

I made Coryn crawl to the edge of the roof, where I'd laid down my notebook. When I opened it, the pages were covered in splotchy black writing - my Dust, pressed between the pages to keep it still but otherwise everlasting. Nobody could read these notes but me, and that was a good thing because I had detailed all of my experiments.

> _(x) blood loss_  
>  _(x) asphyxiation_  
>  _(x) drowning_  
>  _(x) fire_  
>  _(  ) freezing_  
>  _(x) electrocution_  
>  _(x) beheading_  
>  _(x) blunt force_  
>  _(x) crushing_  
>  _(x) dehydration_  
>  _(  ) starvation_  
>  _(  ) heights_
> 
> _..._
> 
> _Blood loss recovery time is fastest at 10 seconds. Recommend using this method to force resets when neck breaking is not possible...._
> 
> _..._
> 
> _The finger showed no signs of growing back over three days, and further experimentation with dirty water on the wound has suggested that infection is still possible. In the case of a loss of limbs or other injuries that are not immediately fatal, it will be necessary to forcefully reset._
> 
> _..._
> 
> _Drowning reset time: approx. 3 min. Uncomfortable. The lack of air was like asphyxiation, but once reset my lungs remained filled with water and movement was slow and taxing. Ejecting the water was highly unpleasant; recommend puncturing chest cavity into lungs with a tube of some sort next time. Perhaps a full reset once out of the water...._
> 
> _..._
> 
> _Day 10_
> 
> _Stomach has stopped growling and aching. Drinking water has stopped helping my appearance. This may have to be the end of this experiment; dad seems to be getting worried...._

I collected a handful of Dust and poured it out over the half-written page. Faster than writing or typing, my thoughts took shape.

> _(x) starvation_  
>  _(x) heights_
> 
> _Day 11_
> 
> _The height experiment seems to have reset my starvation experiment as well, I no longer feel the emptiness of hunger. Coryn shows me that my physical appearance has not changed, however._
> 
> _Height reset time: approx. 6 min. In accordance with the physical damage scaling time chart. Slightly less than crushing, perhaps because there were more pieces left relatively intact._

I paused in my thoughts. What would happen if my whole body was vaporized? The beheading experiments had been illuminating as to the resurrection process; whatever directed it wasn't fond of letting perfectly good pieces go to waste. If my head was nearby, the Dust ribbons formed a connection and dragged it back to my body. When I had Coryn pick up my head and resist the ribbons, they eventually gave up and reformed my head on my body. They did the same but faster if Coryn took the head more than thirty feet from my body.

There are a few disembodied Taylor skulls rotting in the ground of some vacant lots. I figured these probably wouldn't be found for a while, and my dental records weren't on file so I wasn't too worried about being identified if they were.

If the beheading experiments had taught me anything, it was that even the most vital parts of me could be replaced seamlessly, matter created from nothing. Until I found a way to get myself vaporized, I would have to assume that my body would reform from the ribbons near the place where I'd died.

I took a moment to flick _(  ) total body annihilation_ onto the bottom of my list, closed the book and made my way to the roof access door. I had school in the morning, for however long I could bear it.

* * *

It turned out that I could only last three periods into school on Monday; I walked into the class I shared with Emma, saw some sort of viscous fluid spilled on the only available chair, and turned around.

Emma was sitting one row back from the front, one elbow on the desk with her chin in her hand, almost casually looking back at me. There was a nasty, satisfied look on her face, triumphant when she saw that she had my attention. Coryn loomed behind her, one talon up on her desk ready to strike the moment I willed it.

 _I'm a parahuman_ , I thought dully, looking at her and keeping my face blank. _And apparently completely immortal._

I had always known that she was beneath me, that I was better than her, but now the gulf between us was almost too broad to see across. Whatever was wrong with her was unfathomable to me; nothing I could think of would cause me to become what she had become.

_This is pointless. I'm a parahuman; I'm not going to college._

It was a thought that had been brewing for weeks, ever since Coryn pulled my body out of the locker and took us to the beach to wash off. It had only taken me this long because it's a lot to come to terms with, being so completely different now. I had to change my whole way of thinking. 

Before, the future had been something I needed to work for, to make it worth living. Now it was guaranteed.

Emma's expression faltered, turned confused. I was smiling.

I started walking. I considered saying something to her, but why waste the air? You don't talk to the little ants you step over.

* * *

I felt the chains of my old life falling away even as I walked, leaving me as light as air. New concerns and worries kept coming up to bother me, and I carefully examined them for anything of worth. But there was nothing there that could bother a deathless girl. How had I lived with that hanging over my head?

Death is final and permanent. Everything else is temporary. Life is worth so much more when you understand that.

There was one immediate problem in my way now: what do people do all day if not school?

Get a job, I supposed. I wondered if there was any place that would hire a fifteen-year-old girl who ought to be in school, and then decided that I probably shouldn't be working at any place that would.

I was only ten minutes out of school, and already I could tell that my main problem was going to be boredom. Endless time stretched in front of me, empty and pointless without a goal or something to occupy my time.

I swung my backpack around so I could pull my experimentation notebook out, skimming my notes. I could read it without even opening it, sensing the position of the Dust pressed between the pages, and I already found the first few notes to be almost childish. I had been so excited to have powers, filled with life and hope for the first time in a year and a half. The first page was dedicated to a list of potential hero names, one of which I'd already given to my other body. In the rush of experimenting, my heroic plans had fallen to the wayside. They seemed silly, now... but it was something to do.

"What do you think, Coryn?" I asked my shadow, making her speed up and pace me. She walked on all fours and her knuckles like an ape, wings folded up along her long arms. "Can I be a hero with this power?"

It wouldn't be easy, I thought. I might have the perfect defense, but my only offensive capability was Coryn, and I wasn't sure how much use she would be. She could airlift my human body easily, but could she go up against the city's villainous capes?

I took a right at the next intersection. I needed the computers at the library.

* * *

A quick search directed me to the parahumans wiki on Parahumans Online as the best, most up-to-date source of information. Crowd-sourcing was really the only way to get information on villains, since they didn't exactly advertise their powers.

It had been a while since I browsed PHO religiously, but I still knew how to find my way around. There were a lot of familiar names, but some new ones too.

Empire Eighty-Eight still had their big names, Kaiser, Fenja, Menja, Purity, Hookwolf, and had apparently recently added a younger member named Rune, with touch-telekinesis that let her float even massive objects.

Lung's Azn Bad Boys were as strong as ever despite having only two capes in the gang. Oni Lee was confirmed alive two days ago after a fracas with the Merchants in broad daylight, during which the spree-bomber had tried and failed to kill someone named Mush.

I browsed Mush's short entry, finding his use of powers to be lackluster at best. Was he restricted to garbage, or could he become an indomitable threat if allowed to assimilate tougher materials? Had he even tried?

I glanced through Coil's page, but it hadn't been updated since last year and there was no new information. The speculation part was full of theories that he wasn't even a parahuman, same as always. His mercenaries had recently acquired some tinkertech bulletproof vests, which was certainly worth noting, but they were the same vests sold out of Toybox; not a new Tinker in his gang.

There was a fresh update on the Brockton Bay Villains index; an as-yet-unnamed team who had hit a jewelry store and a storage warehouse. That was worth looking at.

Darkness clouds, parahuman-induced Tourrette's, and powered-up dogs. There was a fourth member whose powers were unknown but probably some kind of Thinker.

I sat back from the computer, staring at the index page and tallying up the list. They couldn't kill me, they couldn't trap me, and Coryn was completely invisible. I had a range of two city blocks with her; I didn't even need to be near them.

I signed out of the computer, stood and gathered up my backpack and notebook. Time to go be a hero.

* * *

There was a severe lack of crime on Monday afternoons, apparently. I wondered how to get hold of a police radio, and then whether that was legal, and then whether I cared. The answer was: not really.

I walked while Coryn circled above me. Is it okay to present yourself as bait in a seedy area, and then turn the tables on anyone who takes the bait? I think that's called entrapment, and it's probably not admissible in court. How do the courts handle parahuman involvement? It's not like they can call a parahuman in to testify; how are you going to trust the guy in a mask who won't tell you his real name to tell the truth about anything?

I decided against the bait plan.

I could hear through Coryn's... well, not her ears, more her whole body, but I could hear through her. She was made of Dust, strengthened by it when I added more and weakened when I took from her to write in my notebook, so why couldn't I hear through Dust that wasn't a part of her?

There was always an aura of Dust around me, a cloud about three feet thick that swirled lightly while I wasn't using it; it hadn't always been there, but I collected and saved all the Dust left over from my resurrections. I formed about half the aura into a dense ball, diminishing its radius, and then moved the basketball-sized sphere over to the other side of the street.

Immediately my perception changed. I could hear the street in stereo, once from my ears and once from the ball. There was no sight still, but that might come with an even bigger concentration of Dust.

I experimented as I walked down the street, pulling out my notebook and flipping to a fresh page. Coryn watched where my body was walking as I concentrated on splitting the Dust into ever-smaller pieces to determine the minimum amount needed for hearing.

> _Smallest size for auditory input from sphere is approx three inches across._
> 
> _Sphere shape = sounds come in from all directions._
> 
> _Flat pane = sounds come in from the largest surface area. Can use to listen through a window, although sound is quite muffled. Still need only three inches across the flat pane. Best for economical Dust usage._
> 
> _Cube shape = direction of sound is easier to pinpoint. Better for listening. Slightly more effort to create and maintain; eight-sided (? name) is more difficult but again more precise. Recommend practice._
> 
> _Surface area is more important than mass for sensory usage. More surface area = sight?_

I left my Dust cube on the other side of the street, and pulled together the rest of my aura into the flattest, longest plane it could form. I still couldn't see out of it.

But I could see out of Coryn's eyes; she circled high above, letting me know I should stop my body at the corner and wait for the light to change, helping me to avoid other pedestrians as I stared blindly at my notebook. What was the difference?

I heard from every part of Coryn, not just her 'ears'. But I only saw through her eyes; it would probably be pretty disorienting to have three-sixty vision the way I had universal hearing.

I formed my second Dust plane into the heart-shape of a barn owl's face, with two fathomless black eyes. I gained a third viewpoint, staring at my human face and triumphant grin. I made my notes, snapped the book shut, and broke Coryn apart into a hundred faces and eight-sided shapes.

I heard everything; I saw everything. And if someone was committing a crime within my range, I would know.

* * *

I still didn't know the protocol for capes arresting people or stopping crime, but I found three different people shooting up and confiscated their drugs. That left me holding three syringes plus a lot of other illegal paraphernalia, and I had no idea what to do with that, either. If I just left it in a dumpster some junkie would probably find it and think he hit the jackpot. I wound up crushing what I could, using Coryn's invulnerable talons, and buried everything in a barren vacant lot.

The junkies hadn't been happy to see their score floating away from them, but they couldn't see Coryn carrying it or do anything to stop her. I'll admit to a vindictive satisfaction with the thefts; I hate drugs, everything from heroin to alcohol. Emma had made me try some beer after my mother died, saying that's what helped her dad feel better.

I picked up my pace after a check of my watch told me dad would be home soon. He'd have questions if I got home after him on a school day.

Not for the first time, I considered telling him that I was a parahuman. He should be happy to learn about my power, since it meant I'd never get hurt.

But part of me rebelled against the idea of telling anyone anything. It probably stemmed from how many of my secrets Emma had pulled out, waved in my face, and then spat on; if I never said something, it could never be used against me. There were still things, even now, that could hurt me. Death has no dominion but I still feel pain. It's just... dulled, because I know that it's temporary.

I don't know what he'll want me to do if I tell him. It's not a conversation we ever had, _hey dad what if I got powers one day?_ I've heard the Wards get paid, and having money for once would be nice. They'd probably want me to go back to school, but they'd have to transfer me to Arcadia with the other Wards. And if they wanted to keep me at Winslow... well, they physically couldn't make me go. I smiled at the thought.

I saw dad's truck in the driveway when I rounded the corner onto our block, which meant either he'd gotten off work early or the school had called him and he'd taken off early. Either way, he knew that I wasn't coming from school. It was probably a good thing I was going to tell him.

"I'm home!" I called into the house, dropping my keys into the dish by the door. My dad's keys were already there.

"The school called," his voice was coming from the kitchen. I went in to find him sitting at the table, some papers in front of him. "They said you missed the last half of your classes."

"Yeah, I decided I'm not going back there." I told him.

Dad paused. "Taylor, I'm glad you're feeling a little more confident but... I've been looking at the forms and the numbers, we can't afford cyber-school - "

I smiled and sat down across from him; he looked up at me without fully raising his head, and for the first time in a while I realized how exhausted he looked. It had been months since we sat at the table together. Usually he ate dinner in front of the television and I ate up in my room. "It's fine, dad. Really. Listen - I'm a parahuman. I have powers."

"You what?" he said, on automatic. Then his eyebrows went up. "Wait, like - superpowers? Like Alexandria?" One of his hands made a wavy motion in the air, possibly indicating flight. "What can you do?"

"Superpowers yes, Alexandria no. There's two parts. I can control this... invisible black matter, I call it Dust, and shape it. Most of the time I keep it looking like - " I stood up as Coryn came back into the room, holding a bedsheet from the linen closet upstairs. "Like this. This is Coryn."

I unfolded the sheet and wrapped in around Coryn, getting as close to her shape as I could. Her wings were too big to fit under the sheet with the rest of her, but I demonstrated them by wrapping the sheet around each one individually. "That's Coryn. I control her, I can see and hear what she does. Um, I know I make it sound like she's separate from me but she really isn't. It's just easier to think like that."

"Wow," dad said, blankly, staring. I left the sheet wrapped over Coryn's shoulders, outlining the shape of her torso and trailing down like a mantle. She crouched in the corner of the kitchen, out of the way for now. "Um, that's a - really great power."

"Yeah, but that's only the first part." I grinned, excited that he was taking it pretty well so far. "It gets better. Dad, you don't have to worry about me ever again. I can't get hurt, not permanently. I can't die."

"You mean you regenerate, or heal yourself like Panacea?" he asked.

"No, I mean I literally can't die." Now I regretted having completely invisible notes. I had no proof of the extent of my experiments. "I mean that if I take fatal damage, I just come right back. Completely healthy and perfectly whole again."

His mouth dropped open, and I watched the tiny muscles in his face twitch like thoughts across his face. A flicker at the corner of his eye, the slightly flare of his nose, eyebrows drawing together, and mouth thinning for a moment. Just when I was starting to get worried that he was having a heart attack or a stroke, he asked in a rough voice, "And how do you know that?"

Ah. I could see how he maybe thought.... "I died in the locker, dad. That's when Coryn formed. She got me out - I told you there was a release on the inside of the locker, but it was busted. Coryn cut the lock and pulled me out, I mean _I_ did, while controlling her, and I took my body to the ocean to wash off but I could tell that I wasn't breathing... and then I was. I think the coat hook at the back hit something important in my head when I got shoved in."

"You... died?" his question was faint, his eyes looking a little wet.

"Only for about three minutes. I came back. Dad, I always come back. I always will. Please don't... please don't cry, it's fine."

"Taylor!" he shouted hoarsely, "This is not fine! You died! They fucking _killed_ _you_! It doesn't matter that you - " his voice broke, "That you came back. I lost you and I didn't even know it."

Before I knew it was happening, he was up around the table and hugging me. I patted his back awkwardly, feeling sympathetic tears gathering in my own eyes. That was a little annoying. "Oh my god. I am so sorry. I'll kill them, I'll fucking - what are their names? Don't lie to me, don't tell me you don't know."

Despite his words, he was still holding on to me tightly and had one hand on the back of my head. I felt... warmth. I had never doubted that he cared, but knowing and _knowing_ are two different things.

"You can kill them, I guess, but I'd have to change my plans and be a villain instead of a hero, and I'm not sure how well I can help you avoid the authorities."

Dad barked a strangled laugh. I got the impression that he thought I was joking. "Okay, maybe no killing. If that's not the first thing you did when you got superpowers, I think I can hold myself back as well."

"Good." He hadn't asked about my phrasing it 'I always come back', and I decided not to press the point. One death had flipped him out this badly; there was no way of knowing what the others would do to him.

Dad finally pulled away, his expression half an embarrassed smile. "So, uh," he cleared his throat, still a little thick with emotion. "You wanna be a hero? That's good. Um, the Protectorate? Wards, I guess."

I nodded. "That's what I was thinking, yeah. I've heard they get paid, too."

His mouth tightened even as his gaze went distant for a moment. "Don't let... don't let money make your decision for you, Taylor. We've got enough to live off of, I don't need to put you to work to pay the bills."

I shrugged, trying to express just how much it didn't matter to me. "I want to be a hero, and if I can get paid to do it I will. Anyway, I figure it'll be like... a job. You don't like everyone you work with - " he snorted, " - but you still work together because you're professionals. Maybe I'll make friends with the Wards, maybe I won't, but that doesn't matter as long as I can work with them."

Dad was smiling slightly as he watched me, and I felt warm and almost uncomfortable. I checked through Coryn's eyes and a mask over dad's shoulder, but there was nothing special about me to see right now. "You kinda grew up while my head was up my ass, huh?"

"Dad!" I was startled to hear him curse.

He laughed at me. "Okay, so you want to be a Ward? How do we do that, exactly?"


	2. Draugr 1.2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is also posted on Spacebattles under the same name.

Nine o'clock the next morning found us being showed into a conference room on the second floor of the PRT building. I could hear the noise of an early tour beginning under my feet on the first floor, an owl mask and an octahedron following them around. There were other sensory pairs browsing the building, slipping in overhead every time someone opened a new door. I was building a neat little map in my head.

"Nervous?" Dad asked, trying to disguise his own nerves.

I smiled encouragingly at him. "Not really. I've thought about the outcomes and decided what to do with all of them, and I'm okay with whatever happens. The worst thing is that I don't join the Wards and I become an independent hero."

"That's a good way of thinking, I guess," he seemed to be calming down. "What's the best-case scenario?"

"I join the Wards, get sent to Arcadia, make a ton of new friends and earn the adulation of the people," I joked. "Well, two out of four are on the table. We'll see about the friends."

The conference room seemed to be built around the long, thirty-person table in the center of it, with just enough room between the chairs and the walls to walk comfortably between them. There were two domino masks on the table, mottled black and white and made of something harder than the dollar-store plastic masks you could buy almost anywhere. We had both seen them, but neither commented nor picked one up. I had looked closer with Coryn, but that was it.

The outside wall of the room was floor-to-ceiling windows, tinted enough to indicate that they were one-way while still allowing the room to feel less cramped. The interior walls were a bland beige. It could have been a conference room in any hotel in the States, instead of being in one of the most fortified buildings in Brockton Bay. I bet the glass was bulletproof.

There was a knock on the door, and dad and I both froze. Were we supposed to call out for whoever it was to come in?

The pause drew on long enough that dad cleared his throat and was about to say something, when the door finally opened. On the other side was a woman, and I got a glance at clear gray eyes, dark skin, and a serious, impassive face before her head dropped.

"The masks are for you to put on," she said to the floor, shuffling her clipboard and folder to one arm so she could gesture to the table. "Please, we take identities very seriously here. Your names and faces have not been recorded."

Dad and I looked at each other, shrugged, and picked up the masks. It was a one-size-fits-all, so it sat strangely over my nose, and then my glasses going on over it were sat too far away from my face. I felt, and looked, ridiculous.

"Okay, they're on," I said, giving up on trying to get my hair to sit comfortably over and under the stretchy head strap.

The woman looked up, already with a faint look of amusement. "I have told them they should put instructions in with the masks, but they don't listen. Good morning, my name is Hannah, and this is James behind me." She stepped in, moving to the side to let the man in behind her.

Dad was surprised to see James, but one of my sensor pairs was watching the hall outside. James was a short white man, with a steep widow's peak just barely avoiding the idea of balding and a paunch. He looked like the definition of a desk jockey, and I smothered a strange, superior feeling in myself. I knew nothing about him, I had no reason to look down on him, and yet the feeling rose unbidden. Troubling.

"Let's sit down," Hannah said. She sat with her back against the long inside wall, inviting us to sit across the table from her and James. "I understand that you contacted us about joining the Wards program?" her eyes glittered with some humor as she looked at dad. "I hope you know you're too old for that."

The simple joke broke through his silence. Dad laughed, not really because it was funny but because it was better than staying silent. "No, it's for my daughter. T - "

"Please, no names yet," Hannah held up a hand. "Unless you were going to say a parahuman name?"

I exchanged a look with dad and shook my head at him. We'd discussed names last night, after getting off the phone call that set up this meeting. _Lazarus_ felt like it might be giving too much of my power away, the names of the immortals from mom's favorite book series were all pretty pretentious, and Coryn's name was based on her owl-like body so it wouldn't make sense for my human one.

"Nothing concrete yet," I told Hannah. "Still batting around some ideas. Are names always power-themed?"

"Generally, yes... a lot of being an active cape is about branding and reputation. A fitting name is vital for that. Before we continue, I have some papers for us to all sign." She opened her manila folder and passed out a packet to James, dad, and me, keeping a fourth for herself. "This is a mutual non-disclosure agreement. You can read it, but basically, nothing that's said in this room is recorded and can't be repeated to anyone outside of it. Even if you don't join the Wards."

"Sounds like a good deal," dad commented, flipping onto the second page. He tapped his right foot on the ground, shifting the Dust I had coating his shoe. That was our signal for 'good'.

I took the pen James offered and signed, then handed it to my dad to do the same. Hannah collected the contracts and returned them to her folder. She folded her hands in front of her and smiled at us.

"Now, if you're comfortable you may remove the masks, but don't feel pressured - "

I whipped my glasses and then mask off, took a second to massage my eyeballs and put my glasses back on. "Sorry, having my glasses on like that was giving me a headache. Um, you were saying?"

Her smile had grown bigger and turned a bit more honest. While I was occupied, my dad had also removed his mask and replaced his glasses.

"I was going to say, please tell us about your powers."

"There's two parts," I began, and ran them through a similar explanation to the one I'd given dad the evening before. "I can see and hear through the Dust if I have it in a high enough concentration and a specific shape. Like, right now I have eyes behind you two watching myself." I didn't mention the eyes and ears I still had floating through the PRT. They probably wouldn't be happy to know I'd mapped most of their base, including several probably secret locations.

"The most concentrated I've gotten the Dust is Coryn, she's strong enough to lift the front of our truck. I don't know how heavy that is." I'd already gone over Coryn, using the same sheet to demonstrate her shape again. I'd left her further down the table, again with the sheet draped over her shoulders.

"Well, that's certainly a versatile power," Hannah said, sounding a bit stunned. "If you decide to join the Wards, we can provide power testing and training - "

I stretched out a hand slightly and tapped the table, trying to regain her attention without raising my hand like a schoolchild. She broke off. "That was just the first part of my powers. The utility aspect."

Her brows went up, and I heard unspoken, _there's more?_

"Yeah, I can't stay dead." I let that sink in for a moment. "That's not phrased badly, I mean that if I take fatal damage my body resets to perfect health. I could demonstrate for you, but I think you might prefer if I didn't."

"Yes... please don't." I could tell that she doubted me, and that was a bit irritating. She might have thought that I was like Alabaster of the Empire, resetting every few seconds. "It sounds like you have a pretty good handle on your powers, but there's almost always room for improvement. Now, James has more information on the Wards program and its benefits...."

* * *

James, as an assistant director of the Ward program, was able to tell us that all of my requests could be easily met. I could transfer to Arcadia, starting in February, and there was a modest pay for Wards as well as a much larger sum put into a trust fund for college or other future plans. I smiled through James' presentation, wondering to myself why I wasn't feeling more... of anything. There was only a vague sense of relief.

The meeting ended with another contract signing, this time to make me a provisional Ward. It was the first time Hannah and James learned our names, as I drew in too-careful cursive and my dad scrawled a well-practiced signature.

"It was nice to meet you, Mr. Hebert, Taylor. I think you'll get along well with the rest of the Wards." Hannah and James stood and shook our hands by the door.

James said, "The papers will get processed today, we'll call you tomorrow with the next step. Sometime tonight or early tomorrow you should get an introductory email with more information and a copy of everything you signed today." He ducked out the door, hurrying off down the hall with his folders.

Hannah tilted her head at us. "Mr. Hebert, I got the impression that your daughter was having trouble at school...?" At our nod, she continued, "If she isn't going back to class today - " It was only eleven-thirty, I saw through one of my masks - "Then, if you want, we can go to the Protectorate building for some preliminary power testing. Maybe introduce you to some heroes? The Wards are still in school, of course, but I know Armsmaster at least is there right now."

"Yes!" I exclaimed, finally feeling the excitement I'd been waiting for. Then I remembered that dad had only taken a half-day from work, calling this a doctor's appointment. "Um, I mean..."

"Do I need to go with her?" Dad asked, "I should really get back to work, but if she's allowed to go alone...."

"Of course she is," Hannah looked at me. "Ready to go? Do you need anything?"

"Ah, just," I reached over and took the folded sheet from Coryn, handing it to dad. "That's all. Let's go!"

"Oh, right," Hannah considered the spot she thought Coryn was in. Coryn was a bit more to the left. "Make sure you keep her close, alright? There are some restricted areas, both here and at the Protectorate Headquarters."

"Of course," I agreed, already satisfied that I'd explored every part of the PRT base. My Dust was already gathering back to its usual orbit around me, waiting to be deployed again.

We took an elevator to an underground parking structure, and from there got into a black SUV that screamed 'government work' even to me. Hannah tried to maintain a conversation, but I'll admit that my skills were rusty; I missed a few queues, and I couldn't think of anything of my own to say so it sounded more like she was awkwardly interrogating me. I was happy to see the end of the hardlight bridge to the PHQ, and not just because I didn't trust the bridge and didn't want to have to die and escape a sinking car.

Hannah took me up from the PHQ's parking garage to what seemed like a public lobby, despite the lack of a tour group here. I had heard they did a few rare tours a year, and now I'd be getting a private one.

"I actually should get back to work myself," Hannah said, and gestured toward some of the low modernist couches and armchairs clustered around. "Please, take a seat, I'll have someone who works here come out and give you the tour."

Oh. I kept my face blank and blandly pleasant; I'd just gotten used to Hannah, and now I'd need to adapt to a whole new person. For a moment I felt like nothing but an exposed nerve, every slight irritation blown out of proportion. "Okay, thanks, see you around I guess."

"Sure will," she promised, and left through the same door we'd come from.

I stood, looking around for a moment, and then sat. My dust formed sensor pairs, and I made guiding them slightly easier on myself by attaching the eye-masks to the octahedrons. The looked like strange, blocky disembodied heads, and I was doubly glad that no one could see them.

I set them to exploring, this time utilizing air vents instead of conveniently opened doors. A fully-formed sensor couldn't fit through the grating, but individual Dust motes slipped through with ease, and then I reformed the sensor on the other side.

Before my sensors got far, the door opened again and revealed Miss Militia. I was on my feet without even thinking about it, and wondering if I should be saluting her? Her gray eyes were crinkled at the corners like she was smiling at me, and her dark skin and short black hair were now pretty familiar.

"H - " I started to say, and she put one finger up to her flag bandanna to shush me, then pulled it down to show me she was grinning.

She winked. "It's Miss Militia, actually. If a cape is in costume, you use the cape name even if you know the real one. It helps to separate things."

"Seems like there's a lot of stuff I don't know about being a cape."

"It's a learning curve, but you came to the right place to learn. For one thing, the Protectorate doesn't kill you for making a mistake. Come, I'll show you around. Armsmaster is probably in his lab but we might be able to catch him on his lunch break, and Velocity, Challenger, and Dauntless are on shift right now as well. Only Challenger is in the building, the other two are out on patrol."

Challenger, I vaguely recalled, was a melee fighter who wore red and carried around a battleaxe as big as herself. She hadn't been seen much recently, according to the Brockton Bay PHO boards.

"I didn't ask, but I assume you don't want to wear a domino mask? You didn't seem to like wearing one, and we don't have any other kind on hand."

"No thank you, I don't like the feeling."

As Miss Militia started us down another hall, following signs for the cafeteria, I noted how empty the base was. There were conference rooms, offices, and a whole stretch of what looked like unused dorm rooms. I wondered about it, but couldn't ask; I shouldn't be looking anyway.

"There are some unwritten rules to being a cape," Miss Militia explained along the way. "It will not make sense to you at first - it didn't make sense to me - but the rules stand for a good reason. They protect heroes, villains, and the civilian families of both, and they keep order for when the big threats arrive...."

Miss Militia had listed out her unwritten rules, and was on to explaining examples in detail by the time she pushed open the institutional double doors to a cafeteria. It was as silent as a library to me, being used to the screaming noise of Winslow.

One half of the room was bolted-down tables and swivel chairs, like something you'd see at a fast food place, and the other half was a self-service buffet.

"This is a capes-only section of the PHQ," Miss Militia explained, "If you're wondering why it's so empty. It was constructed to be able to hold many more than the usual roster, so that we don't run out of space if we get visitors from other Protectorate zones or need to take in refugees. And there's Armsmaster."

Armsmaster was in a corner, half-hidden behind one of the low privacy walls and hidden more behind the plastic fern on top of it. He didn't seem to have heard Militia; he was staring at something on the table in front of him, and it wasn't the sandwich he was eating.

"We'll get food and then go join him."

I didn't say that he didn't look like he was interested in conversation.

We collected plates from the buffet, two chili dogs for Miss Militia and a salad with ham toppings for me. I hung back as she approached Armsmaster's table, flashing back to the first day of high school when I had stood with my lunch tray and tried to find somewhere to sit while also ignoring Emma's piercing sneer.

I shook the memory away. All of that is behind and beneath me now. I sat next to Miss Militia, trying to summon a sense of confidence or failing that at least indifference.

I got my first close-up look at one of my childhood heroes. There was the short brown beard, the same as it had been since he first came into the public eye in the early days of the Protectorate. Short, dark brown hair at a uniform length all over his head, like he just took a trimmer to it every few weeks. His eyebrows were raised at Miss Militia as we sat down, eyes flicking over to me and then back to her. I got the feeling he might not have spoken even if his mouth weren't full.

"This is our new Ward," Miss Militia said. "She doesn't have a cape name yet."

I realized that she wasn't going to introduce me, and that her head was tilted slightly my way. Right, secret identities. It was rude to reveal someone else's. "Hi, I'm Taylor Hebert." Should I tell him that he's one of my favorite heroes? Would that be weird?

"Powers?" Armsmaster asked, finally putting down the tablet he'd been glancing at this whole time. He must have realized Miss Militia was going to force social interaction on him whether he wanted it or not; I could sympathize, having been through similar with Emma back in middle school.

I took a deep breath, ready to get into the whole thing again. Miss Militia waved to cut me off.

"She hasn't been rated officially yet, but I'd say Master four, with Stranger, Mover, and Brute subratings for the minion. It's invisible. She can see and hear through the invisible matter that creates her minion, so at least a Thinker 1. And she mentioned a possible Brute power for herself, although that's untested."

"Versatile," Armsmaster commented. He was down to only a few bites of his sandwich left, and I figured he'd be leaving the second he was finished. I searched for something to say.

"How did you decide on Armsmaster for your cape name?" I blurted. Good one, Taylor. Maybe next you can ask him if there's anyone special in his life and really round out that interview-vibe. "Um, it's just that I've been trying to think of one for my power but nothing really clicks. Did you know right away that you found the right name?"

"Thought my power was just about creating weapons at first." Armsmaster said, his tone still gruff and reserved. That sounded like the end of what he had to say, and then he seemed to change his mind about something. "People pick names that refer to their powers because powers don't change. If you pick a random name that you think sounds cool, you could hate it in a few years. A name that fits your power always fits."

I nodded along, feeling satisfied and settled. Armsmaster finished his sandwich.

"Thanks, Armsmaster. It was nice to meet you," I stood up when he did, acting more on instinct than thinking about what I was doing. I put my hand out to shake his unprompted, for probably the first time in my life. It felt very adult-y. "I've decided, you can call me Lazarus."

* * *

Militia was quiet during lunch, affording me the time to think things over. Dad and I had gone over a dozen potential names last night, but as I'd told Armsmaster nothing had really clicked with me. The one I did like, Lazarus, was one that made my dad flinch, and I hadn't liked it well enough to throw my death in his face.

Still, it was the best fit for my powers. More than the Dust and Coryn, the most important thing about me is that I cannot be killed. That can't be a secret. I want people to know.

"Let's go see Challenger on the console," Miss Militia said after we put our trays on a little dumbwaiter. I sent a sensor pair in after them, figuring that it was a part of the base I hadn't yet mapped out. I'd also already found the console and Challenger, but it would be different to have a real introduction.

As Miss Militia took me toward an elevator, she said conversationally, "So, tell me more about your regeneration powers? We were running out of time in the meeting, so I think I cut you off a bit."

"There's not much more to tell," I replied. "I can't die. I found out a couple weeks ago, when I first got my powers."

I saw Miss Militia was giving me a strange look. Then she asked, "How did you die?"

Ah, she thought it might be a suicide thing. That was going to get annoying. I shrugged, trying to play it off. "I died when I first got my powers. Some bullies at school shoved me into a locker, my head hit the coat hook at the back, and next thing I know I'm standing in the hall looking at my locker again, while the girls who locked me in are laughing and walking away. Took me a second to figure out that I was actually a big, invisible black creature. I was confused, but I kind of remembered enough to check in the locker, and there was my body. Got myself out, walked my body out of school... I didn't go back for a few days, but eventually I did." I laughed, finding a little humor in it. "Why not, right? They already killed me, it's not like they can top that."

"You had what's called a trigger event," Miss Militia explained. "They're fairly well-known among parahumans and people who study them, usually caused by extreme stress or trauma. Tell me, the girls who caused your trigger, do you know who they are?"

"Yeah," I wondered if this would be the moment I got justice. If I told her, would she be the first person to listen, to finally do something? "I know their names. I know where the worst one lives, because she used to be my best friend." _Ask me. Ask me for their names._

Miss Militia seemed to be watching me as closely as I was currently watching her. She smiled slightly. "It impresses me that they still live, then," she said, "I know that when I triggered, the first thing I did was hunt down and kill the men who had taken me hostage. It was a dark time in my life, and I'm glad you resisted such impulses."

"I thought about it," I admitted. "But I don't want to go to jail or the Birdcage, and I'm sure it would be pretty easy to trace it back to me. Eventually I decided that they were too pathetic to even bother with. They're ants." Fragile, short-lived, worthless.

I noted that she didn't ask me their names. It felt like something being written on my soul, and a door sliding closed between us.

"There are other parahumans known to have resurrection powers, but all of them seem to have some drawback," Militia continued. "For example, one Protectorate cape who loses more of his mind with every death. Have you noticed any effects like that?"

I gave this thought the consideration it deserved. Was I different? Definitely. Was it brought on by my resets?

Indirectly, I supposed. I could trace every change in myself back to the realization that death can't keep me. But none of them felt forced upon me, and I believe that every one of them was for the better. I'm better now than I was before. I wouldn't go back to the person I was, given the option. Who would?

"I'm definitely different," I told her. We reached a door at the end of the hall, marked with a sign advising that we were entering non-secured space. "But that's because I know I can't die now. I think that would change anybody. I didn't lose any part of myself, I just cut away the fear."

"Fear can be a good tool sometimes," Militia leaned into the pressbar on the door, holding it open for me. "Keeps you sharp. And you should still be careful, often powers come with drawbacks or unexpected weaknesses. Just because one thing didn't kill you doesn't mean something else can't."

"If it does, at least I'll die surprised," I said. "Nothing I could think of did the trick."

Militia stopped in her tracks. "Taylor, how many times have you died?"

I figured I'd get this reaction, and I wanted to get it out of the way as quickly as possible. Trying for flippant, I said, "Somewhere around a hundred times by now. I was trying to figure some stuff out, doing some experiments. That's how I know it takes a few seconds to come back from having my neck broken, but about five minutes from burning to death. Also, would not recommend dying like that if you can avoid it."

Miss Militia just looked at me for a long second, something sad around her eyes. "Were you looking for a way to die, Taylor?"

"No?" Hadn't she been listening this entire time? "I can't die. I was just testing to see what happens when I do. That's important to know."

I wasn't entirely clear on why - I'd justified a lot of it in the beginning, telling myself that it was important to know in case it ever changed, or there was ever a time I didn't come back but remained as a conscious cloud of Dust, but I came up with those _after_ I started experimenting. When I looked underneath them for the real reason I just found a driving _need to know_.

"Part of the onboarding process for the Wards program is a psychological evaluation," Miss Militia said. "I honestly don't know what they'll do about yours, Taylor."

I just shrugged in response. It didn't seem like a problem to me, but if people were going to get that worked up over it I could start lying.

Meeting Challenger was less amazing than meeting Armsmaster, although I did learn that she was on console because she was laid up from an eye injury, and at the same time was waiting for her transfer out of Brockton Bay. I got the feeling the injury and the transfer weren't unrelated, but also that I shouldn't ask about it. She wasn't a very open or talkative person.

"The Wards used to be out here with us," Militia said as she finished taking me around the training floors. "They still have practice times here on the weekends and sometimes after school. They were moved over to the PRT base a few weeks ago. They seem to be settling in nicely, and I've heard from Aegis that the commute is better."

"Why did they move?" I asked, figuring that would be a safe topic to land on. I really needed to start holding up my end of conversations more.

Miss Militia cleared her throat. "There was an... incident, which resolved in several injuries, some light insubordination, and bad calls all around. Don't mention it around Armsmaster, Challenger, or Vista. It was - " She stopped to search for the words.

"You don't have to tell me," I interrupted. As interesting as it sounded, I knew I could earn points with her by letting it slide, and I was satisfied to see her thankful nod.

"It's really not important. Suffice to say, follow commands from the console even when they don't seem to make much sense. On that note, the last stop on our tour is the infirmary level. This way."

* * *

Later, after I was dropped off at home and after dinner with dad, I booted up our old desktop to check my email for the promised packet of information. My nose crinkled in irritation as I deleted three abusive emails from my bullies, and then some more harmless spam. Finally, I was left with only two new messages: one from prt-wardsinfo@ene.prt.gov, and one from eye-see-all@securemail.com.

I checked, and the one from the PRT was pretty much exactly as expected, telling me what to do and what would happen over the next week. The other one was something completely unfamiliar. My bullies had never used that domain, and the subject line caught my eye.

_There's something you should know about the Wards._


	3. Draugr 1.3

The Wards got out of school early on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays as part of an internship work program. Probably most of Arcadia knew that the Wards were part of the early-release program, but so were over a hundred other students.

On Wednesday, the day after my meeting at the PRT and everything that happened after it, I went to go meet the Wards.

I didn't know who eye-see-all was, or why they apparently cared enough to arm me with information beforehand. I was grateful, however, that I wouldn't be blindsided with the knowledge of Shadow Stalker's secret identity in the middle of meeting my new teammates. If she even dared to show me her face.

I hadn't decided if I would reveal her crimes and reap some well-sown revenge, or if I'd hold it over her head. Revenge would satisfy my pride, but only the once. First I could make her sick with fear of what I would do, crush her the way she'd tried to crush me. Hold her inferiority over her head.

My silent transport was a PRT trooper in another black SUV, who picked me up from a corner a few blocks down from my house. The door slid open, he flashed some ID I didn't bother to look at, and off we went.

You can call that careless, but I'm immortal.

The SUV went straight for the PRT building, sliding right through a metal gate into the underground parking structure.

"Know the way?" my trooper asked after he'd put the car in park.

"Yeah, I remember," I told him, already unbuckling and opening the door.

I got Coryn out after me, draping a red shawl over her shoulders. Miss Militia had informed me yesterday that it would probably be polite to have something to mark where Coryn was, so that people didn't wonder what my invisible minion was up to. They'd just find that she was still and silent every time I wasn't directly making her do something.

Coryn and I headed for the elevator, taking it up to the first floor. I thought I knew where the entrance to the Wards' section was, but my sensors hadn't been able to find a way in yesterday.

I was met in the lobby by a rotund woman with a blonde bob cut. She heaved out of one the chairs behind the desk, glanced around the room, and put her hand out.

"Good afternoon," she said. "I'm Director Piggot. I've been informed of your preference against domino masks, but I'm going to have to insist for the next while at least." She pulled a mask out from behind the receptionist desk.

I took it, put it on, and hung my glasses on the front of my shirt. I'd decided not to even bother with them today; instead I layered an owl mask over my face, which was invisible to everyone else and blocked my own eyes, but which I could see out of with perfect vision. I just had to remember that even though I felt completely covered, the lower half of my face was still visible.

"Nice to meet you," I said. "I'm Lazarus."

"So I've heard," her tone was dry, maybe a little sarcastic. I fought down a flicker of contempt for this fat woman who thought she could judge me.

She took me first to an empty office, where there were more forms waiting for me to sign. She explained them all in simple, clipped terms, and I signed without reading. It was too much effort, and I knew that bureaucracy could fuck you over whether you signed something or not. It always boiled down to power and connections. Law, order, and common decency all bend down for power.

When we were finally finished, Piggot nodded. "This way to the Wards section."

As I'd thought, the Wards were on the other side of the futuristic door, every section sliding against another in a swirl of artistic shapes pulling back to reveal... an elevator car. If they were underground, that explained why I hadn't found them in my explorations.

Piggot walked slower than I would have liked, and for some reason even the sound of her breathing was irritating, but eventually the elevator ride ended and the doors opened again to reveal an excessively long hallway.

"An alarm sounds when the elevator hits the bottom," Piggot explained. "Telling the Wards they have a minute to get their masks and, ideally, costumes on. The main room is semi-public; there are windows that turn transparent after the minute is up, and the premium tour group gets to enter the room, although they are escorted by PRT agents and heavily discouraged from trying to engage with the Wards without prompting. If you don't want to be disturbed, there are private quarters and other rooms off the main one."

At the end of the hall was another sliding door, a retinal scan that Piggot leaned in for, and a thumbprint scanner. "Usually only the retinal is required, but we need to enter you into the system."

She pressed some things on the screen, and then waved me forward. I let the machine scan my eye, wondering if my eyes grew back the same every time or if there were ever any minute differences.

"I'm going to supervise the first meeting, and after that I'll leave you all to acquaint yourselves. Any questions before we go in?"

"Will they know my name?" I asked, pulling my hair back into a ponytail high up on the back of my head and holding it there with a band of Dust. I had never worn it like this at school, where leaving the back of my neck exposed was just asking for something to be put down my shirt. Hopefully it would throw Sophia off from immediately identifying me.

"You aren't required to reveal your identity to anyone, although it's recommended for teamwork purposes. They may or may not decide to unmask to you right away. It's your choice."

I grinned, finally feeling the nervous butterflies that I'd been waiting for all this time. "Okay. I'm ready."

* * *

On the other side of the door was a big, domed room. Bright lights high above gave it an airy feeling at odds with the knowledge that we were underground, and kind of made up for the lack of windows. Another thing making up for the lack was an abundance of screens, showing camera feeds, some sort of timer, and a whole cluster around the console showing a stock photo of a lush green forest.

The Wards were gathered in the center of the room, all sitting on the four curved couches that described a circle. In the middle of the circle was a low coffee table, set up with a pitcher of water, a carafe, and a stack of styrofoam cups. The styrofoam in the midst of all the rest of the high-tech was unexpected, drawing my eye.

The Ward I recognized as Aegis stood up and met us halfway, his hand outstretched to me. I shook it, reflecting that I was getting a lot of practice at this hand-shaking thing.

"Hi," he said, smiling at me. "I'm Aegis. Guys, come on," he waved around the circle.

I flicked my hand, trying to express that they should stay sitting. "I actually know all of your cape names, I did my research. I should be the one doing introductions. Hello everyone, I'm Lazarus."

"Cool name," Clockblocker said. He was lounging, completely reclined with one ankle crossed over the opposite knee to prop his leg up. "I mean, not the best here but still pretty cool. You a Brute?"

"Resurrection cape," I told him, scanning the circle. Kid Win was on the same couch as Aegis, Vista and Clockblocker sat together - Vista's small frame probably the only one that would fit with Clockblocker taking up so much room - and then it was Gallant on one couch and Shadow Stalker on the last.

_Sophia._

"Nothing keeps me down," I said with a grin, looking around the circle. I know it had a nasty edge that only Sophia would have reason to catch on to. "And this is Coryn, she's part of my power too."

Aegis suggested it, and it was agreed that we should all go around in a circle doing show-and-tell with our powers. I sat next to Gallant, kicking it off with the by-now rote explanation of Coryn and my Dust, and just barely touching on my resurrection power. I didn't get into the details, since they had seemed to disturb Miss Militia more than I thought they would.

Gallant turned out to have an emotion power that wasn't on his wiki page, Vista was quiet and happy to have another girl on the team, and Clockblocker told me that he had a secondary power too and reached out to show me. As he did, I _jolted_ out of my body.

There was a moment where I thought that Clockblocker's second power was some sort of forced astral projection thing; and then I realized that I was just Coryn again, and that my body was frozen in time, leaning forward with interest toward him and holding out one hand for him to touch. Clockblocker slapped his knee, cackling, and the rest of the circle was rolling their eyes or groaning.

"Dennis, goddamn it," Aegis picked up and threw a cup at Clockblocker. "How many f-freakin times did I tell you not to pull this sh-stuff again?" His eyes flickered over to where Piggot was sitting, in the console chair, apparently engrossed in something on her tablet, as he held back the curse words.

"Be right back," Sophia said, standing abruptly.

I didn't want to leave, but I didn't want to let her go unwatched. I split Coryn into two half-sized versions of herself, sending one to follow Sophia and leaving the other to watch the Wards.

"She seems nice," Vista commented. "And it seems like a good power, too."

Before they started talking more about me, I decided I should announce my 'presence' before they realized that Coryn's red shawl was still floating in place, and realized it on their own. I moved carefully between the couches, picked up the coffee carafe, and spilled a bit of it out onto the flat metal tray. I looked up and met Aegis' wide eyes, although he didn't realize it.

"Lazarus?" he asked.

YES, I traced out in the spilled coffee. It was harder than I thought it would be. STILL HERE.

"Well, shit," Clockblocker said, blinking. "That's not how it usually works. Usually I just touch people and their powers... stop."

If I wanted to labor through it, I could probably trace out an explanation that my control of the Dust was pretty much unrelated to my body; that I could control it even while I was physically nothing but a smear of red on the ground.

Instead I just shrugged and wrote, CONTINUE?

Meanwhile, I was also paying attention to Sophia's every movement. She left through a door leading to a long hallway with six doors on either side, and entered the second one on the right. Inside was a small dorm room, just a bed, desk with laptop, and a standing closet. I darted through the doorway right before she slammed it shut, turning sharply against the frame and crawling up the wall and along the ceiling to stay out of her way in the small space.

She went straight to the laptop, cracking it open and typing in a password I didn't see. I split off a mask and hovered it over her shoulder to get a better look.

Sophia opened up an instant-messenger program and started typing.

_Have you heard anything about Heb_

I didn't let her get more than a few words down before my fury rose and nearly choked me, sending my hand back in the common room skidding through the spilled coffee.

In Sophia's room, I reached down delicately with one talon and pressed on the power button of her laptop. After a long few seconds, her screen blacked out.

"What the fuck?" she muttered, taking both hands off the laptop. She slammed them back onto the desk in disgust, then ducked underneath to check on the power cord.

How could I communicate with her? I could claw words into the surface of the desk, but that would leave evidence. I sighed.

"Hello? Is there someone in here?" Sophia's voice was tense, but still quiet. She didn't want to be heard.

Could I speak as Coryn? I'd never tried before.

" _Sophia_ ," I tested it, and then was delighted to see her whip around and clench up even more. My voice was barely above a whisper. " _None of that, Sophia. Tk, tk, tk_ ," I made my best approximation of a clicking noise. " _Did you think I wouldn't watch you?_ "

"Who the fuck are you," she demanded, soft but snarling. Her eyes darted around, her fingers clenching at her sides.

" _I always knew you were a brainless thug, but this is pushing it_ ," I said. I'll admit, I was reveling in the freedom of saying whatever I wanted to her. " _How stupid can you be? I just told you what I could do._ "

"T - _Lazarus_?"

" _Please, Sophia, we both know better. Come on, say my name_."

Her hands curled into fists, Sophia swallowed and said, "...Hebert. You triggered. I... I made you trigger."

I laughed, realizing as the noise came out that it sounded wrong like this. Too much air, not enough noise. " _You give yourself too much credit, Sophia. I was always like this. All you did... was give me a little_ push." I shoved her chair as I said it, making it rattle and her jerk in place. " _Now, shhhh... the others are sending someone to come get you. Be quiet, and let me decide what I want to do with you._ "

I could tell she wanted to retort, to snarl and rage at me some more, but that was when Gallant knocked on her door. I slipped out after her, rejoining the two Coryns and stationing her behind my now-unfrozen body.

"And here's Shadow Stalker," Gallant said, saving to the surly girl following behind him. She glared daggers straight at me, but that must not have been very different from her normal self because no one commented on it. "Stalker, want to tell Lazarus your powers?"

I made my face blandly pleasant, and enjoyed how much it seemed to affect Sophia. "No," she ground out, "You tell her." She turned around and headed straight back for her room.

"Rude!" Clockblocker called after her. He turned back to me. "Sorry, she's kind of a bitch... all the time. So, you have any ideas for your costume yet? Better get them in fast before PR starts working sh-stuff up without asking you."

Clockblocker levered himself up and craned his head around the room. "Hey, Piggy's gone. We can talk normal."

At some point, Director Piggot had decided we didn't need any more supervision and had left. I thought it was around the time Aegis was explaining his redundant biology.

"I was thinking some sort of owl theme, since that's what Coryn looks like," I explained, "But other than that, if you have any suggestions...."

* * *

After my meeting with the Wards, it was power testing time. Aegis and I were loaded into an SUV, with the same driver as the one who'd taken me to the PRT building, and we set off for PHQ where their robust facilities and commuted-in specialists waited for me.

"I get to come with because I'm the team leader," Aegis said during the drive. "Before me it was Triumph, who left for the Protectorate about a month ago."

"Right before the thing with Challenger and Vista," I said, prodding for information.

Aegis's head turned away, but of course I couldn't see much of his expression with the mask. "Yeah... you heard about that?"

"Miss Militia mentioned it," I offered. "But we got interrupted before I got the whole story. It sounded kind of important, though."

"Ha, I don't know about important. Just kind of a fuck-up. Vista and Challenger were on a joint patrol because we were short-handed, so they were connected to the Protectorate console. Their patrol ran into Skidmark, the Merchants' leader, in the middle of receiving a shipment of some drugs. Challenger called into console for permission to engage and... Armsmaster was on duty. He did things by the book, completely, y'know? He checked the sitch and gave them the go-ahead. Turned out Squealer was hiding nearby, and she came gunning to Skidmark's defense. Armsmaster directed backup to them, but Challenger had to take a hit for Vista before they got there. So, she lost an eye, Vista's... not doing great about it, and Armsmaster got a reprimand."

"If he did what he was supposed to, why did he get reprimanded?" I thought back to our brief but illuminating meeting. Had he been short-spoken because he was still angry? It seemed like a long time to keep that up.

Aegis sighed. "Turned out he was distracted on console, tinkering with something at the same time. The investigation decided that he could have noticed Squealer if he was paying full attention. Which is kinda bullshit, hindsight is twenty-twenty, but anyway Piggot used it to take command of the Wards and move us into the PRT base. We used to work out of PHQ with the Protectorate."

"Thanks for telling me," I said, nodding at him.

"No problem. Hey, you said that your power lets you come back from dying, right? What's that like?"

I grinned; I could talk about my powers all day. "Mostly like being a normal person. I get my throat cut, I bleed out, then come back to life after a few seconds. What about your biology?"

"My throat doesn't bleed much more than a papercut," he leaned in toward me, apparently interested to compare our Brute ratings. "So, do you still feel pain like you did before?"

I held up my hand and rocked it back and forth. "Kinda. I think it's the same pain, it just matters less. Like, when I cut off my finger to see if it would grow back, it hurt but I could just tell myself that it was temporary and ignore it. You?"

"Less pain, for sure, when Hookwolf ripped my arm off it was really inconvenient but it didn't put me on the ground or anything. And it reattached as soon as I got it into the socket again."

"Something similar happens with mine, but I have to reset first...."

We spent the rest of the drive comparing injuries, eventually deciding that my power was better for survivability, but in everyday life Aegis' probably topped it. He didn't have to deal with the little inconveniences like stubbed toes or papercuts.

We were met at the PHQ by a woman in a lab coat and office clothes, holding a thick tablet. She smiled and showed us to the testing room, which was the size of a football field and twenty feet tall. There was a running track around the perimeter and what looked like high-tech exercise machines in the middle.

Aegis left, waving goodbye, for the observation deck set high up in one wall. I sent a sensor pair up there, both to watch myself and to listen to what they were saying; there were two more people with lab coats in the room with Aegis.

He didn't greet them with more than a nod, which was surprising given how friendly he'd been so far.

The woman introduced herself as Doctor Alice Williams, but I could call her Doctor Alice. She ran me through a gauntlet of physical tests, each more annoying than the last, She wasn't listening when I told her there was nothing specially strong about my human body.

By the end of it, I was ready to force a reset just to get rid of the burning in my muscles and my pounding heart.

"Okay, now for the minion... Coryn, right?"

I stayed on the floor, stretching out my aching legs, and waved toward where Coryn was standing. I had her quickly fix her shawl to lay more evenly.

"Hm. This would be easier if we could see all of her. Paint!"

I looked up at her, absolutely baffled by the sudden exclamation, but then a slot in the wall opened and there was a can of paint inside it. Fucking weird.

The paint was a vibrant blue and briefly outlined Coryn as she tipped it over her head and it slid down her body and straight to the floor. It was difficult to get things to stick to Coryn or any Dust, I remembered belatedly.

"Hm," Alice said again, writing on her tablet. "Spray paint!"

As Alice retrieved the can of blue spray paint, I focused on Coryn. I hoped the new texture to her surface would let it hold the fine droplets of paint, since it was now a layer of dermal denticles like I had seen on close-ups of sharkskin. Her skin was rough now, the first time I had touched Dust and felt any kind of texture.

"Stand back, please, Lazarus."

The blue spray paint stuck much better, although when I tested it covertly on a wingtip I found that I could turn Coryn friction-less again and the paint just dropped right off.

"Well, she's bigger than I thought," Alice said, standing back to look at all of Coryn.

She was a head taller than me, but far skinnier. Her legs were skeletal, her waist as thin as her neck, and there was of course the claw-tipped wings. I realized I could only see blue out of her eyes, and turned them back to normal to drop the paint off them. Fathomless black eyes stared back at me, though Alice could only see holes in the thin paint-shell.

"She's a construct out of your... invisible black matter, right? Can you change her shape?"

Alice ran through questions I felt I'd answered six times already, but this was for the official report; yes, I could change Coryn's shape. This was her default, and no, I didn't know why that was.

That part is a lie, of course. Coryn looks like an owl because my mother used to call me her little owl, but I'm not about to share that with these people.

She was the first person to ask more about the Dust and its properties, which led into a discussion of my range and control.

"And what would you say is the extent of your control? Is it more like giving a command to an independent creature, or more like moving a part of your own body?"

"Like moving my own body," I answered, though my eyes drifted to Coryn's. That was true, but I had my own thoughts about Coryn.

"And what happens to your Dust or Coryn when they leave your range? When you fall asleep or unconscious?"

"While this body sleeps, my consciousness is in Coryn and the rest of my Dust; same thing happens when I'm knocked out or I die, or when Clockblocker freezes me. And if any of them leave my range, they just start to dissipate."

Except for Coryn, again, but I didn't tell them that. It felt too personal, in the same way I couldn't tell them about my mother.

Alice ran us through a few tests of coordination, separating myself and Coryn to see how well I could control both of us at the same time. I failed out on the conversation aspect, since I couldn't pay attention to two people speaking at once, but aced everything else.

"Decent results," Alice muttered, marking something else on her tablet. I was beginning to itch to see her screen, then remembered I could. My sensor over her shoulder couldn't really make sense of her shorthand, though. "You've mentioned you can control Dust outside of your minion, potentially to make more constructs like it. How many of these can you create?"

I thought back to all the sensors I'd created to simultaneously explore the PRT building, and the streets around me on my only 'patrol'. "As many as I have Dust for. Hundreds, once."

She frowned, nodded, and wrote. "Please rate your control of five minions, on a scale of one to ten with ten being 'like your own body' and one being 'barely at all'."

"Ten, easily."

 _Mark_. "Please rate your control of twenty minions, same scale."

"Ten." I thought about telling her it would always be ten, but I also kinda wanted to know how high she'd go before she just asked me.

 _Mark_. "Please rate your control of a hundred minions."

"Ten." I stretched again, wondering how much more of this there was.

 _Mark_. "Two hundred."

"Ten." I noticed her giving me a withering look.

"Please take this seriously, Lazarus. When you controlled 'hundreds' of minions, did you notice any loss of control or awareness of your own body?"

"I am being serious. It's always ten, whether I'm controlling just myself or Coryn and a million specks of Dust." I tried not to sound egotistic when I continued, "I really don't expect you or anyone else to understand; you're not like me, so you can't. I'm bigger than just myself. I control my Dust the way you control your fingers on that tablet."

Alice sighed. "Alright, good enough. Time for power-testing for the minion."

 _Her name is Coryn._ It wasn't worth saying out loud, but I still wanted to see the back of Alice as fast as possible.

* * *

"Your... resurrection power will be recorded but not tested. For legal reasons we can't condone any kind of self-harm or self-mutilation that isn't directly tied to an aspect of your power."

"What does that even mean," I grumbled, crossing my arms.

"It's worded like that because there are some heroes who become stronger the more injured they are, and other such situations. Your resurrection, by your own admission, doesn't affect your other powers. It just gives you a Brute one rating."

I suppressed my aggravation; I really wanted to be finished, and I'd been looking forward to a reset at the end to fix my aching body. "Fine. Are we done with power testing then?"

"Yes, you're free to go. Aegis will be able to show you - "

"Yeah, hang on, I'll be right back." I turned and took a few steps away from her, having Coryn come up to me. Coryn reached out, still visible, and took my head between her two wing-tips.

I didn't want to have to wait to bleed out, so she snapped my neck.

New Dust filtered into the world, from wherever it came from. I let it gather unimpeded around my body, which Coryn was still cradling upright, and coat me from head to toe. Distantly, I was aware of Alice raising her voice and backing away, but it wasn't important. I was focusing on the Dust, trying to discern what it was doing. Maybe if I could make it do this when I _wasn't_ dead, I could figure out how to fix myself without dying first.

With a gasp, I was back in my body. Coryn pushed me gently upright, leaving paint streaks on my clothes and face. Alice, when I looked at her, had wide eyes and one hand over her mouth. Her tablet hung limply from the other.

I rolled my head around, loosening up. "Sorry, I needed that. The whole exercise testing really tired me out."

"Please leave," she said.


	4. Draugr 1.4

I don't sleep anymore, as I'd told Alice. My body lays down to rest and frees my mind to wander unimpeded through the Dust, but it's different to be a mind without a body. I can't understand speech when I'm asleep. If the noise is audible to my body's ears, I can usually make half-sense of it, although I'm never sure that I've got it right.

When Coryn listened to my dad on the phone on Thursday morning, I knew that he was speaking but not what it was about. I knew that he had stretched our corded phone to the kitchen table and was leaned over it, his free hand pressed over his eyes, but I didn't know what this posture meant.

He stood, hung up the phone, and breathed out harshly. He scrubbed both hands over his face and dragged them down, staring blankly at the wall next to the phone. He said something else to the empty air, looking up.

I decided that this seemed important, and went to go wake up my body. I'd slept for nine hours, mentally exhausted after the long day yesterday.

My body woke when I jostled it, startled out of a deep REM sleep. The two halves of my consciousness blended seamlessly, bringing with it the memory of the last few minutes. I couldn't remember dad's words, but I had vivid images of his body language, and now I could identify it: he was unhappy, worried, tired. Telling him about my powers hadn't helped as much as I thought it would.

I went through my morning routine quickly to catch him before he left for work, then took the stairs two at a time. "Hey dad," I put up a front of more happiness than I was really feeling. "Were you on the phone a little while ago? Something woke me up."

"PRT called," he said dully, his back to me as he waited for the coffeemaker to spit out the last of its coffee into his massive travel mug. "Taylor, did you snap your neck during your power testing?"

"Yeah, I think I pulled something during testing. Reset fixed it." Still nonchalant. Stop making a big deal about it.

Dad turned around. I was surprised to see that he was angry. "Taylor, you can't just - you can't do that! Even if it is a part of your power, you can't treat dying so lightly."

 _I can and I will_ . I held the words back, and held back on the indignation - he was trying to _control_ me? Thought he knew my powers better than I did? "Dad, I get that you're worried about me, but it is really, truly, not a big deal. I come back, usually feeling better than I did before it."

"What if it doesn't always work?" he demanded. "What if you rely on it and one day you just run out of extra lives? What if it isn't infinite? Please, stop wasting yourself on stupid little things! I can't lose you too."

I stopped. I could swear it until I was blue in the face, could promise him that he'd never lose me. I had the evidence to back me up, a notebook full of invisible writing detailing all the ways I can't die. The problem was that he was afraid, and that he didn't trust me.

And I don't know how to make him trust me. All I have is time; as much time as he has left.

"Okay. I'll stop forcing resets unless I have to," I lied. "I don't think the PRT really like me doing that anyway."

He sighed. "Thank you. That's... that makes me feel a lot better."

_I know. That's why I said it._

* * *

I waited for Sophia on the roof after school that day. Coryn had whispered my message in her ear during her last class, and was now stalking her through the halls to the access door. She'd made some paltry excuse to Emma, which implied that she might not have told Emma about me.

She ghosted right through both roof access doors, which was a little annoying as it meant that I had to break Coryn up and move her here through the vents. Still, by the time Sophia materialized on the roof, Coryn was perched atop the door alcove.

"What do you want, Hebert?" Sophia growled, advancing a few steps.

I grinned; I couldn't help it. The idea that I used to be afraid of her, that she could do anything to me, was so amusing now. "To talk, Sophie. I'm sure you and I have a lot to talk about, don't you agree?"

"You wearin' a wire or something?" She squinted at me.

My lip curled up. Insulting. "Why would I need a wire to deal with you? You've got a big idea of yourself. No, I'm here to tell you how this," I gestured between us, and then tapped just under my eye - indicating a mask, I hoped. "Is going to work."

"So, blackmail? Want yourself a little _slave_ , Hebert?" Sophia spat. "Fuck that, tell them whatever you want. You've got no proof."

I took a deep breath, searching for patience. "No, you small-minded idiot. I'm going to tell you how I'd like this to work, and you decide whether or not you can live with that. If you can, good. We'll be teammates, and I'll consider spitting on you if I ever see you on fire. If you can't, I go to Piggot and lay my cards on the table."

"You think you can threaten me?" Sophia closed the distance between us rapidly, shoes crunching on the salted rooftop, and grabbed the front of my shirt in her fist. "You're nothing, Hebert, always were and always will be. People like you, even when they get powers, don't last long. You came crawling to the Wards for protection because you know what a weak-ass little failure you are. I know it, _you_ know it, and Emma knew it, too. I don't know who the fuck gives out powers, but _they chose wrong_."

"Take your hands off of me," I said, through my mouth and Coryn's at the same time. Coryn was right behind Sophia, wings spread to either side of us. Sophia jerked and her grip loosened, but didn't let go. "Off, now, or I'll remove it from me _and_ from you."

She sneered, but let go. She still didn't back up out of my face. "You'd never. You're all talk, Hebert."

"All talk," I echoed her. "I came here to reach a peace with you, but I can tell that'll never happen. Nothing I say gets through your arrogance, and I don't want to do whatever I'd need to do to earn your respect. Get out of my sight, Sophia. Expect a call from your wardens soon." I took a step to the side, moving around her towards the door.

I had Coryn nearby; I think I could have stopped her. I just didn't feel like the effort was worth it. And maybe I had something to prove.

She bent her knees and shoved me, with strength born earning in reloading crossbows and months of vigilante and hero work. She was strong; I was light. I stumbled back a few steps, straight into the chainlink fence around the edge of the roof. Rusty, old, and improperly installed, it buckled under my weight. For a moment I thought it might hold, cradling me like a particularly uncomfortable hammock over the drop; I looked down at Sophia, nonplussed, and I saw her eyes wide with horror and shock.

The support poles broke through crumbling concrete, the chainlink swung free, and I dropped.

_Guess we'll see if three stories does the trick._

It didn't, but I had Coryn to reset me.

* * *

 It had surprised me to find, when I was given my official Ward cellphone yesterday, that I had a pre-programmed direct line to Director Piggot. She was the director of the entire PRT East-North-East; it didn't make sense to me that she would be immediately available to every Ward.

Aegis had explained; it was partially because of secret identities, in that she was one of the few people required to know mine, and partially because she had taken over direct command of the Wards from Armsmaster. I had a line to James, the Deputy Director and the one who handled the business side of the Wards program, but also permission to escalate directly to Piggot if I needed to.

Coryn hid my body while I reset, although she couldn't do much about the puddle of blood on the asphalt. Sophia had pushed me over the edge into a lesser-used side road, trafficked only by maintenance and their vehicles, so as far as I could tell there weren't any witnesses to my fall. And this was definitely not the first puddle of blood I'd left somewhere.

I stood up, checked my clothes - okay, they were bad, but I couldn't do anything about that - and phone - intact, thankfully - and then looked up. Sophia's head was poking over the edge, staring down at me. I waved at her with the hand holding my phone, then set off for my house. It was a lovely day for a walk, which was lucky since no bus would let me on looking like a murderer.

I texted Piggot as I went; Aegis had told me that was the best way to get a hold of her.

_Director, I'd like to talk to you about an altercation between myself and SS._

That seemed formal enough, right?

I put the phone back in my pocket and kept walking, humming tunelessly as I went. I had sensors spread all around me, not really because I hoped to catch anyone. It just feels good to know about everything that's going on.

Only a few minutes after I sent the text, my phone vibrated with a notification.

_Come to my office at 1530_

I killed the time between by going home to change and then walking to the PRT building. I was finding that I liked walking, watching the people around me, and that it was doing good things for my fitness. Resetting, thankfully, didn't seem to put the pounds back on my middle.

I followed the map guide on the phone screen toward one of the PRT's secret entrances, which took me underground through some of the Endbringer tunnels and finally into a little room just off the underground parking garage. The room was stocked with a first-aid kit and a collection of domino masks, one of which I had to put on. I was less opposed to them now I'd figured out a way to wear it without my glasses.

I wasn't used to the respect that the mask garnered me, the small nods from the PRT officers and the stares of the public tour group as I passed through the lobby on my way to Piggot's office. I kept my head up and ignored them, but I did try to nod back to the troopers. They were brave to do what they did without any powers.

"Before we get started, I was going to contact you soon to tell you that your meeting with PR has been scheduled for tomorrow at four. Depending on how that goes, we could have you debuting Sunday at the earliest."

I nodded, fixing that in my mind. I didn't have many ideas for a costume, except perhaps something like Aegis' that didn't show blood. There had also been mention of costuming Coryn so that people could see her, which kind of halved her effectiveness if you asked me.

"Now, what's this about Shadow Stalker? I'm aware that you two used to go to the same school, but I was informed that you had chosen to drop out while waiting for a transfer."

I frowned, folding my hands behind my back uncomfortably. There were two chairs in front of her desk, but she hadn't told or asked me to sit; I was standing behind one now, a barrier between us. I didn't think she'd appreciate if I invited myself to a seat.

She wanted this over and done with as fast as possible. Would she ignore me and take the easiest path, like Winslow had?

"Shadow Stalker pushed me off the roof of the school earlier today, a few minutes before I texted you," I told her. "I left behind some blood where I died, I don't know if you want to send some people out for that."

She did, and did so immediately; her voice as she dispatched people to handle it was tight and angry. She hung up and said to me, "In the future, please inform me of your _deaths_ as soon as possible, especially in such a public place."

I shrugged. "No one saw, I checked."

"Why were you at Winslow, and on the roof, and with Shadow Stalker? And, please, theorize as to why she felt the need to shove you off it."

"I was at Winslow to talk with her about our previous relationship and how it would affect our working together," I was trying to keep my words and tone as professional as possible. Anything to keep this from sounding like a juvenile fight, two kids needling at each other. "I asked her to come up to the roof to speak privately. She didn't like what I had to say, and she shoved me." I hesitated, then decided that it would make me look more reasonable and added, "I don't think she intended to kill me, but the fencing was weak."

Piggot sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "What, exactly, did you say? And what's your previous relationship with Stalker?"

"I told her that, as long as she left me alone, I'd work alongside her in the Wards without revealing what she did to me at school. She refused, I said I'd come here and tell you, and she shoved me. As for our previous relationship... she's the one who killed me. She's the reason I have powers."

"Shadow Stalker caused your trigger event?" Now Piggot's hands were down, flat on her desk. "Explain. Stop talking around it."

"She and some of her friends had been bullying me since the beginning of high school. Little stuff, spitballs and juice dumped over my desk, stealing my things, vandalizing my locker. Eventually she decided to go farther, dumped a bunch of used tampons in my locker and then shoved me in it. My head hit the coat hook, I died."

I thought about it for a moment, while Piggot sat there in silence and stared at me. I added, "I don't believe she intended to kill me, either time. I do think it's important to point out that, if it were anyone else, Shadow Stalker would have two actual deaths on her hands. Accidental or not, she's too violent for this to go unreported."

"Aside from the... evidence at the school, do you have any other proof of your accusations?"

It was the same thing Blackwell and the teachers always asked me. _Do you have proof? Do you have evidence? Why should I believe you, when it's so much easier not to?_

I'm done trying to prove things to people who don't want to believe them. I'm done waiting for someone else to do what I need done.

"I only have what I've told you. My word against whatever she comes up with to defend herself." My jaw clenched, grinding my teeth together. I had begged and pleaded, debased myself again and again, waiting for the proper authority to do something. Not anymore.

"If she remains in the Wards, I'll be leaving. I won't work with someone who won't work with me, and certainly not with a murderer."

"She's not a murderer," Piggot said, sounding almost like she was working on autopilot. "You aren't dead, in your own words, you can't die."

"She's a murderer in every other way you count it. You do what you have to, and so will I. I joined the Wards for the paycheck, and because my dad wanted me to. I can live without the money, and he can certainly learn to live with the disappointment."

I pivoted on my heel, and I had my hand on the doorknob when she said, "Lazarus."

I paused, waiting, turning my head back to tell her I was listening.

"Shadow Stalker is already on probation as part of her induction into the Wards. We will be looking into this. If nothing else, it confirms some of my own feelings about Stalker. If _any_ of what you've told me is true... she's heading straight for juvenile detention."

I expected happiness, vindication, satisfaction. I expected to feel _something_ , but it wasn't there. I felt more watching Sophia's reaction at the school; that had made me feel powerful. This was nothing.

"Thank you," I said, and left with my stomach churning unhappily.

I had what I thought I'd wanted: the people in charge were finally listening to me. It wasn't what I'd imagined.

I didn't particularly want to be anywhere under the gaze of the PRT at that moment, but I also didn't want to go home. Dad would ask what I'd done all day, and I would have to lie to him. I'd be lying to him a lot from now on, until he figured out how to accept the truth. It burned that he forced me to do it.

Despite wanting to get away, I found myself in the Wards' headquarters. I was surprised to see that Vista and Kid Win were there too, despite how early after school it was.

Vista was slouched on one of the couches, a soda can cupped loosely in one hand resting on the cushion next to her, watching something on the TV. She was wearing a hastily-donned domino mask, her costume and visor nowhere to be seen.

"Heya Lazarus," she greeted me, raising her can in greeting. She reached up with her free hand and pulled the mask off. "Also, my name's Missy."

I smiled. "I'm Taylor, then," and took my own off. I dispersed the Dust mask and put my glasses back on. "What are you doing here so early? I thought we weren't supposed to show up until five."

"Avoiding my parents," Missy admitted. "How 'bout you?"

"Had to talk to Director Piggot, decided to come check this place out again. I didn't really get the full tour yesterday."

"I can show you around," she offered, levering herself off the couch and waving a hand gesture at the TV. It turned off and drifted up into the ceiling. I got the idea that the people who built this place had wanted it to seem as futuristic as possible.

"That'd be nice, thanks."

"I'll show you Kid's tinker lab first, he's here too. He comes by early sometimes to work on stuff. Take your mask with, if you want."

"I don't mind unmasking to you guys. I didn't yesterday because I didn't want to pressure anyone into doing the same."

"Kid probably won't care either, but we still have to knock before we go in. Not good to disturb a tinker."

We reached a featureless alcove, which looked more like a recessed portion of the silver wall than anything else. An alcove someone had forgotten to install the door in; there was no handle or knob.

Vista knocked anyway, and a heard a faint shout. Then she waved her phone over the wall to the right of the door, and the whole panel in front of us slid back into the wall with a satisfying _woosh_. It was every science-fiction nerd's dream, and I should know; mom and dad were Star Trek fans.

"Hi," Kid Win said distractedly, not looking up from whatever he was doing to the skateboard on the table. He wasn't wearing his mask or costume either. "Sorry, busy."

"Tinkers're all like that," Missy shrugged at me. "Even Armsmaster, if you wanted to get his attention back when he was in charge of us you had to drop something on his head. Miss Militia took care of a lot for him."

"I met them both, they seemed nice. Armsmaster helped me pick out my name."

Missy looked surprised. "What, really? How'd you get him to pay attention long enough?"

I grinned. "Well, actually it's more like Miss Militia ambushed him at lunch and he spared a few words that _helped_ me decide on it. Same thing though, right? Saying Armsmaster picked it sounds better."

"Sure," she agreed easily. "Hey, Chris, this is Taylor. Say hello."

"Hi Taylor," Chris repeated dutifully, doing something with a pair of tweezers and a circuit board. "Nice to meet you."

Missy rolled her eyes and backed us out of the room. "He's not coming out of it anytime soon," she explained. "Down here's the showers and the gym. Aegis uses it the most but we're all required to pass some fitness tests."

I knew that; I'd just barely scraped by mine yesterday.

As she showed me the girls' showers, I remembered my appointment for tomorrow.

Missy seemed like she was enjoying showing me around, so I asked, "Hey, Missy, I'm supposed to have a teleconference with someone from PR tomorrow. You guys helped me a little yesterday, but do you have any more advice?"


	5. Draugr 1.5

Glenn was a strange man. I was doubtful of his credentials at first, because what man versed in public presentation would dress like that, or get that haircut? But he was in the right place, on the other side of the television screen in the Wards' conference room, so it was probably the right guy.

"Lazarus, right? I've been over your file and we don't have a lot of time, so just tell me what you have in mind for a costume."

I'd thought this over last night, while sleeping. "Red costume, something like Aegis', to hide bloodstains when I get hurt or have to reset. Made of something hard to rip or tear - it doesn't need to be armored, since it's not like I'll stay hurt, but it's easier and probably better if all my bits stay together."

Glenn nodded along to what I was saying. "We've got costume materials that fit the bill. But it looks bad to send out Wards with no visible armoring, especially on the front line like you want to be. We'll also be trying to keep the... specifics of your resurrection power out of the public eye as much as possible. So, armoring: chestplate is a must, possibly an armored skirt - how do you feel about matching Vista? - and you can pick between other pieces. I'll send the mock-ups to your Ward email.

"My next point: the name. Are you really that attached to Lazarus? It brings some connotations that are less than ideal."

"I'm keeping the name," I told him bluntly, lip curling up a bit. "Back up, I didn't agree to any armoring. At best it's a waste, at worst it'll actively slow me down."

"If you refuse to wear armor, you'll have to be kept back from the front, play the pure Master angle and act only through your minion. We can't have you out there dying in front of God and CCTV."

"Fine," I agreed. I had no intention of actually doing that, but I was getting used to lying about my use of my own powers. The amount of people who thought they knew better than me was just astounding. "I'll do that, then."

Chambers paused and narrowed his eyes at me, apparently suspecting that I'd given in too easily. "Disobeying orders _will_ get your pay docked, among other things."

"Okay," I said, and waited for him to continue.

After another moment's consideration, he finally did. "Next is costuming for your minion. Stranger ratings don't poll well, especially invisibility ones, so we'll be keeping that aspect to ourselves." He stopped talking, looking at me. After a split second of confusion I realized he was pausing to give me a chance to object.

I shrugged. "Fine by me." If I needed Coryn invisible again, it would be easy enough to shed any costume they put on her.

"...Right," he looked down at his file folder and muttered, " _This she doesn't decide to fight me on._ " And then at full volume, "The minion will have to match your costume, but do you have any input on style or materials? I can see here that liquid paint didn't work but you had better luck with aerosolized."

"Spray paint all over, to make her visible, and then maybe like a tabard for the upper body," I said, thinking of Coryn's wings and tapered torso. It could probably look creepy to people who weren't used to it. "Has to be something open on the sides. Maybe something feathery for her legs, she looks like an owl."

"Hm," Chambers was scribbling in my file, the movement of his pen like he was sketching something. "We can work with that. I'll send some stuff along to your local PR, they'll be your main point of contact from now on. This is a complicated one, so your announcement will probably be pushed back to Monday, possibly later depending on your cooperation. Nice to meet you, Lazarus."

"You too, Glenn," I muttered, standing up.

"When you get out there, send Clockblocker in, will you?"

I hesitated. "Is he in trouble for something?"

"No more than usual, I just like to make him sweat. He made my job very difficult for a time."

My face broke into a grin; I remembered Clockblocker's rushed debut, the outrage and laughter around his announcement of his name. I had enjoyed it, but people with different ideas of 'proper' and 'appropriate' hero names had taken issue.

"Sure, I'll get him."

Dennis groaned when I told him, then slouched and dragged his feet on his way to the conference room.

"So, what's the verdict?" Carlos asked, waving me over to the couches. He was playing against Dean in some racing video game, his left hand deftly twitching a joystick to guide his car through a loop in the track.

"Damn," Dean grumbled, kicking at the low table as he concentrated. "Are you growing extra muscles in your hands? Super-reflexes?"

"This is pure human power," Carlos told him smugly. "So, how about it, Laz?"

"Just call me Taylor, Carlos. And never abbreviate my name again." It sounded so strange. "He wanted me in armor but I nixed that idea. Coryn will be getting a makeover, though."

"I get Lazarus, but where'd the minion's name come from?" Missy asked. She was sitting next to Dean, watching their race and apparently cheer-leading for him. Her homework sat open and untouched on the table.

I smiled as I recalled it. "I used to read this book series with my mom. The characters were all different types of owls, and my favorite of the main characters was a barn owl named Coryn. Since she looks like a barn owl, I named her after that one."

"How come she looks like a barn owl, though? I mean if you can change what she looks like, why not something cooler like a dragon?" Carlos asked. He thought about it for a moment and added, "Or, actually, like a dinosaur. A dragon might be a bad idea."

Yeah, I didn't need Lung getting angry that I stole his brand. "That's just her default shape, I don't know how or why. I guess I could change it if I needed to." But I wouldn't; Coryn's shape made me feel closer to my mom.

"Rematch," Dean said suddenly: the screen was showing replays of their race. "And this time, I want that car."

"Hey, I called next game," Chris complained.

"It's not the car," Carlos said. He stood up. "But no rematch and no next game, we need to start getting ready for patrol. Vista, if you don't finish your homework you _know_ you'll be on console duty."

Missy flushed. "It's basically done already, it's easy stuff. Anyway, Shadow Stalker's late so _she_ should be on console."

Carlos grimaced. "Actually, that's something I've got to tell you guys. Taylor, any idea when Chambers will be done with Dennis?"

"Right now," Dennis called out, strolling back in with his hands in his pockets. "He just wanted to check in I guess. Team meeting?"

"Team meeting," Carlos confirmed. He waited until Dennis drew closer, then took a breath and said, "I don't have much more information than this, but: Shadow Stalker is off the team. She might be going to juvie, or transferred to another Ward team, I'm not sure. All I know is she violated her parole somehow, and they're deciding what to do with her. We might not find out what."

"Sheeee-it," Dennis drew out the word. "Wonder what our pet psycho did this time. We were almost even on boys and girls for once, too."

_She pushed me off a roof and killed me._

I thought about saying it, but I didn't. If I said it, the idea of me in their minds would include _got killed by Shadow Stalker_ , and _was a victim_. I couldn't take that back, no matter how false the impression. And if I said I'd _let_ her do it, they think that I entrapped her, and I'd be the bad guy.

Better to be silent. If I didn't tell them, they would never know.

* * *

The rest of the evening was spent with the Wards, first watching them get ready for their patrols - Aegis and Kid Win, Vista and Clockblocker - then watching them through the console screens. Gallant, on console duty, showed me around the system.

It was pretty simplistic, a nearly automatic process checking for red flags from police radios and emergency calls. I could see how Armsmaster had fallen to tinkering out of boredom. Gallant seemed to take console duty so responsibly that I began to doubt him; like he was trying too hard in reaction to my presence. There had to be a reason the video game controllers reached to the console chair.

We flicked through emergency services calls, landing on each long enough to ensure that a super-powered response wasn't necessary and then moving on. After one particularly high-strung call, where we'd listening to some nigh-incoherent screaming only to discover it was a domestic dispute, I noticed Gallant checking up on me out of the corner of his eye.

"It can be a lot sometimes," he offered, tipping one shoulder toward me. I was in a wheeled office chair, pulled up behind and to the side of his seat. "My first console shift, I gained some new respect for the actual nine-one-one operators. I don't have to talk to these people or even listen to them very long, and I still feel... well, it's hard not being out there helping."

Was that what this feeling was? I looked over to Coryn, who was pacing the floor, walls, and ceiling of the main domed room.

I was a little restless, I supposed.

"You just have to remember that we're here to help keep the others safe. There's a reason the Wards and Protectorate heroes have a longer lifespan than any other category, and it's because we work together and look out for each other."

Gallant, I decided, was too good to be true. No teenager was this genuinely nice; they were, in my experience, all about two steps from psychopathy.

I recalled Emma, friendly right up until she found someone else. Some people could pretend to be nice to you, to get under your skin and find out your secrets, until they had what they needed from you.

I smiled and hummed in response, as non-committal as I could make it. Gallant frowned, and too late I remembered what he'd told me about his emotion-sense.

But it isn't as good as mind-reading. I can think of something else, something that summons up the right emotions, while still keeping my true feelings hidden. It was too late to do it now, but from here on out I could try to control myself, not show him that I was watching him for deception.

And I was sure I'd find it, eventually.

* * *

"Need a ride home?" Carlos asked, tilting his head at the car that was waiting for him.

We were exiting one of the boltholes down to the Wards' quarters together; everyone left through different exits, so that there was less chance of us being noticed.

Dad wasn't very happy that I had refused his offer to pick me up, but he respected my wishes. We were slightly closer now than we had been, and I was beginning to realize that I missed some of the freedom I'd had when we barely spoke. Now he was interested in my life, which was fine, but refused to admit that I'd grown up while he looked the other way. I didn't need him hovering over my shoulder.

"Nah, I like walking. Don't worry about me."

"I would, but I know you," Aegis said with a grin and a jerk of his head. He was actually saying, _I know your power_. "See ya!"

"Later," I called back to him, and then set off walking.

Around the corner, there was a girl leaning against the building, waiting.

"Are you looking for me, or just anyone?" I asked her, stopped a few feet away. Coryn stepped soundlessly to her side, ready for a sudden move.

"You, specifically," she said, raising her head from her phone. "Hey. I'm Lisa."

"...Taylor," I said after a moment's thought. She'd managed to intercept me from a place that no one should be able to, which meant she could probably figure out my name. "How'd you know I'd come out here?" Precognition? It seemed fair to assume she was a cape, but I had little beyond that.

Her lips quirked up a bit, and when she shook her head her blond ponytail swished. "Not a precog, just a really good guesser. Of the available exits, this is the one where Aegis' mom's car was waiting for him. The guess was that you'd be leaving with him instead of one of the others."

Thinker, then. I ran through a mental list of Brockton Bay's known thinkers, and there were no good results. She was either an unknown or a villain.

"Not going to ask? Hm. I can't decide if you're shy or cautious. You're a hard read, Taylor."

"I'd talk if I had a bit more context," I allowed. "Right now this feels like a really weird ambush... Tattletale."

She clapped her hands together once, softly. "Ha! Knew you'd figure it out. But did you know I was the one who sent you the file on Sophia Hess?"

I didn't, and I hadn't even thought about it too much. It made sense to me that a person like Sophia had enough enemies that eventually one of them was smart enough to figure it all out.

"Yeah, and I _love_ what you did with it. My boss thought you'd use it to blackmail her, but he's not as good as me at reading people."

"Why did you give me that file?" I asked. I thought she wanted me to feel indebted, and I didn't like the idea of being manipulated like that.

"Shadow Stalker was a murderous psycho who needed to be taken off the street," Tattletale said, sobering a little. "She took the game too far."

"The game?"

"You know, this," she motioned between us. "Heroes versus villains, cops versus robbers. If everything is going right, we're all just playing a game. Counting coup, like Native Americans. We don't kill each other, we only lock up the really dangerous ones, because we need all hands on deck for the Endbringers and the S-Class threats."

"Only if everything is going right," I noted. "What about if it's not?"

"Then you get bad times. Seriously, look at parts of Europe, Asia, all of Africa. Compared to those places, North America is a solid ten. Some of that's because of the PRT and the Protectorate, but it's really just that they know to enforce the rules of the game. It's all a balance."

"Okay." It made sense, it fit with what we were taught of recent history and what Miss Militia had told me about the unwritten rules of being a cape. "But why are you telling me?"

She shrugged. "I wanted to meet you. Make contact. Somehow, you're exactly what I expected and nothing like I thought at the same time. Don't worry, this isn't some kind of blackmail or recruitment pitch. There just aren't that many people in our line of work, you know? It's good to make friends where you can."

"And I guess since we're just _playing_ cops and robbers, you and I can be friends," I said, unimpressed and letting it show. I was beginning to think she wanted a spy in the Wards.

She laughed at me again. "Not like that, no. Trust me, next time we run into each other we'll be enemies, for as long as you're with the Wards. But if you ever get tired of playing for the cops, remember me over here with the robbers, alright? I could use a friend who doesn't die."

For some reason, that rang truer than anything else she'd said this evening.

She smirked at me again, waved, and sauntered away in the opposite direction of the one I needed to go.

I watched, but nobody followed me home. It took me a long time to fall asleep that night, and my Dust watched everything within my range while I slept, but there was nothing to find. It seemed like Tattletale truly believed in the unwritten rules, at least in following their spirit if not the letter.

She didn't threaten my civilian identity; she'd given me her name first; and once I thought about it, I could understand giving me Sophia's identity. Sophia had been able to do what she did because of her place as Shadow Stalker, which meant she bridged the gap first. She broke the rules and so, as Militia had said, they no longer protected her.

What would happen if I broke the rules? What could they do to a deathless girl? Would even the Birdcage hold someone with infinite lives to spend breaking through its defenses?

A week ago, I'd nearly despaired at the thought that I would need to spend eternity constantly searching for something to do. Now the future had never looked brighter.


	6. Draugr: Interludes

#### 1.c

"Report."

"Contact went well. She hasn't told anyone about the file and doesn't plan to. Whether she'll stay a hero... I don't know. That part was hard to read."

"Disappointing, Tattletale. I don't keep you around for _scraps_."

"I told you, she's a hard read. I could give you the dozen theories my power threw at me, but there's no guarantee that any of them are accurate. Why don't you pull her into one of your alts for a quick interrogation?"

"...."

"Shit, you did? Are you losing your touch?"

"Would you like to find out?"

"Her resurrection power gives her a high resistance or tolerance of pain. She's experimented with it... everything she could think of, including fire, electrocution, and possibly freezing to death. Ha! You tried to torture the girl who burned herself alive just to see what would happen."

"Quite. Do you have anything else for me?"

"She's bad at social interaction and doesn't have any close friends. Her family is her lever - her dad, I think. Mom's probably dead."

"Acceptable. You'll find your usual bonus in your account. I'll contact you soon with another job."

* * *

#### 1.b

_"When will you be coming back?"_

_Pathetic_ , Emma thought. _God, you couldn't have sounded more like a whining little kid._

Everything was falling out from under her. Sophia was gone, forced out of Brockton Bay by the stupid PRT and their rules; school was interminably boring without her, and Emma was losing the support of the track team girls without Sophia to keep them in line. Half her power base was gone, and none of the possible replacements were even remotely tolerable.

And to top it all off, it looked like Taylor was gone for good.

If you had told Emma a couple weeks ago that Taylor would drop out, she'd have laughed and cheered, "Finally!" Finally, the last reminder of the weak little girl she had been was gone. No more seeing Taylor and remembering everything she hated. No more spending so much time putting the other girl in her place - like trying to keep ants out of an old house. A year and a half of work paid off.

Instead of triumph, Emma felt... empty. Unstable. Without Taylor to put down, she was finding that she didn't feel as tall.

_I know where she lives. I could.... Shit, am I that desperate?_

Almost. Almost, but not yet. Taylor would come crawling back - she didn't have a choice. She wasn't old enough to drop out, and she didn't have the grades or the connections to get into Arcadia, Emma had seen to that.

She should be crowing over her victory, but it didn't feel like one. It felt rather like she'd been left behind. Taylor, giving her that strange half-smile as she walked out; Sophia, quiet and furious as she told Emma that the PRT was moving her to Chicago. That it was Chicago or prison.

 _How do parahumans get powers?_ she wondered, looking it up on a laptop at home. If the night she met with Sophia wasn't sufficient to become one, what horror was?

Sophia had never told her about her trigger event, although she had explained them in general. The idea of putting herself in a situation like that again made her nauseous; powers weren't worth that. Nothing was worth that.

Still, she searched. Parahumans Online was a huge forum full of people with no credentials, but the good ones provided links to sources. Links to pages, hoaxes, rumors about how the desperate and the wealthy could buy power. Parahumanity in a bottle.

Emma didn't find anything, but her search did not go unnoticed.

* * *

#### 1.a

"Door."

Alexandria found herself facing a plain white door, which meant Doctor Mother had requested not to be disturbed. She knocked anyway; this was important.

She waited, arms crossed and the relevant file tucked under one. Her fingers drummed on it impatiently, lips pursed in thought. Finally, the door opened.

"Alexandria? What is it?" Doctor Mother asked, standing aside to invite her in. The meeting room was empty and showed no sign of whatever the doctor had been doing. Contessa leaned against the table, her head cocked to the side.

"Ajin," Alexandria said, tossing the file onto the table and sitting down. She reached up to remove her helmet and shook her hair loose. "It's what we feared."

Doctor Mother closed her eyes and swore softly; Contessa reached for the manila folder.

"None of the paths have changed yet," she reported, flicking through the pages. "But they are a blind spot. Lazarus?"

"She's well aware of her nature," Rebecca said dryly. "She's some sort of Master for the black matter. It's literally the worst case scenario."

"There are a lot of bad scenarios," Doctor Mother pointed out. "We never decided which could be the worst. At least she's chosen to be a hero, surprising considering the observed effect their ability has on the psyche."

Rebecca grunted, nodding at the folder. "Page sixteen, psych eval. She's not heroic, she just likes the money and her father is a strong attachment. He's apparently a very moral man."

"She's right," Contessa said suddenly, looking up from the folder. "This is the worst case scenario. This is the first Ajin parahuman that we know of, but it's also the only Ajin parahuman the entity needs. It's a Master for the black matter. The first thing her agent did, according to this, was experiment with the black matter and its resurrection abilities."

" _She_ did that," Rebecca pointed out. "Psych eval says there's some very unfulfillable suicidal tendencies."

"Sometimes there can be very little separation between the parahuman and the agent," Doctor Mother said. "No way to tell if it was her choice or her agent's urging."

"Psych eval is wrong," Contessa added.

Rebecca reclaimed the file, pulling out the psychological evaluation in question. "You said you're blind to Ajin."

"I can model the idea of them from what we know of the Japanese experiments before Kyushu, and I can path the person who did the eval. Their conclusions operate under the assumption that she's human, and she isn't. Doubly over, she's more than human. The evaluations aren't that effective for parahumans to begin with."

"Regardless of the driver, she shows that the agent can control invisible black matter," Doctor Mother stepped in. "Which means nothing good for our goals."

There was a moment of grim silence as everyone followed that to its natural conclusion.

"Do we think it works on entities?" Rebecca asked finally, looking to Contessa.

"I can't say for sure. No one but an entity itself probably could." Her mouth formed a straight, tight line, "But we need to proceed as though it does. Scion can't be allowed to know about that shard, or harvest it." After a moment of troubled thought, she added, "We don't even know the time limit for resurrection, and we _do_ know that the entities can manipulate time. He might even be able to resurrect his partner."

Rebecca watched Doctor Mother close her eyes, put both hands flat on the table and lean onto them, head dipping just slightly.

Eventually Rebecca asked, "What are we going to do?"

"We have connections in Brockton Bay," Doctor Mother said, raising her head and standing up straight again. "Although we've been largely hands-off in the area before now. I think we'll need to keep a closer eye on things in that city from now on."

"You could just take her," Rebecca suggested, gaze shifting to the door and beyond it. "Put her with the others, where she can't gather the data they want."

"I'd rather not take a risk like that as our _first_ course of action," Doctor Mother said. "Especially when she may not be as large a threat as we fear. In order for the black matter to be useful to the entity, she'll need to figure out how to make it work on people other than ajin. We can't afford to alienate an ability like that, not when you and the others are out there risking your lives every day.

"No, let things lie as they are for now in Brockton Bay. We'll keep watching, and step in if necessary..."


	7. Lich 2.1

“And now, allow me to introduce our newest hero, the Ward Lazarus and her minion, Coryn!” Harold ‘call me Harry’ Miller had what I could only call  _ stage presence _ , capturing attention as effortlessly as if he had a parahuman power for it.

He looked the part of a Public Relations guy a lot more than Glenn Chambers had, well-dressed in a tailored white and gray suit, a dark blue scarf draped around his neck in deference to the mild winter temperatures.

I was in my own new costume on stage with him: a red bodysuit made of some material that stretched but didn't rip easily, secured around my wrists, ankles, neck and waist with electric blue metal bands. It wouldn't stop punctures or a bullet, but if something blasted me I wouldn't have limbs flying off in all directions. They'd taken my measurements a week ago so it was fitted but not skin-tight; I had flatly refused to wear something that only accentuated my lack of feminine attributes, and the PR woman agreed with me.  


My mask was a play on the old plague-doctor masks, covering my eyes and cheekbones with a barn owl pattern, blacked-out prescription lenses over the eye-holes, and extending down over my nose in a beak-like shape. I'd pushed for a full face mask like Clockblocker had, but when they made me choose between a skirt and the mask I'd gone for pants. I had my hair pulled back into a high ponytail with both a hair-tie and a Dust band, both to change the look of my dark curls and to keep it out of the way.

Coryn was dressed up in contrast: electric blue paint, red accents around the face, wings, and talons. I had had the idea to secure her paint by layering more Dust on top once the little particles caught on her rough skin, which meant it all stayed in place instead of blowing or rubbing off. A loose blue tabard with a red abstract pattern of feathers went over her chest, covering the too-thin waist.

The press conference was open to the public, held in Glade Park near the Boardwalk on a mild Sunday evening. Glade was one of the nicest parks in Brockton Bay, largely because the Protectorate funded it for events like this, with a clamshell stage in good repair and working electricity.

I looked out over the sea of faces, reporters with cameras in the front and normal people behind the press line. Somehow, I hadn’t expected this many people to show up for some random Ward announcement, even if it had been teased out in local news for the past week.

“Feel like you can talk?” Harry asked out of the corner of his mouth, away from the mic.

I hadn’t been sure if I got stage fright, and I’d told him as much. He had a backup plan for if I couldn’t say anything.

My heart was beating a mile a minute, almost painfully against my ribs, but at the same time I felt distanced from the situation: like I was watching it from outside my body. Which, through my Dust, I was.

“I can talk,” I said, listening closely to make sure that my strange heartbeat wasn’t shaking my voice.

Harry queued up his mic again, reminding me that I would have to do the same. “Lazarus and Coryn have a few minutes to answer your questions before they have to go, who wants to go first?”

One of the PRT troopers on security duty for the event hopped off the stage with a corded microphone, eventually handing it to a blond reporter.

“Good morning, Lazarus. Mister Miller introduced your friend as a minion, but would you please elaborate on your power?”

“My power lets me create Coryn,” I waved one hand at her, and made her lift her wing and wave back. “She’s strong, fast, and can fly, and I can see and hear what she does. There are other aspects to it, but I have to keep some things up my sleeve.”

“Like why you chose the name Lazarus?” the reporter asked, a bit coy now. The PRT trooper snatched the mic back almost before she was done talking.

“Exactly,” I said. “Next question?”

While another person was being chosen - this time not a reporter - someone in the crowd shouted out, “Any romance brewing in the Wards?” People laughed.

I blinked, stunned wordless for a moment. Harry cleared his throat. “Please remember that all of our Wards are, by definition,  _ underage _ . Such speculation is highly inappropriate and, in some cases,  _ illegal _ .”

There was some good-natured booing at that, and Harry smiled tightly. He muttered to me, “Don’t respond to comments like that. Nothing you say helps.”

“I’ve browsed PHO and the internet a lot,” I told him. “I’m well aware.” I just hadn’t ever really considered that it might happen to me.

The microphone had made its way to a little boy sitting on a man’s shoulders to see above the crowd, clutching it in both hands to keep it steady.

“Um,” his voice was very soft. The crowd went dead silent. “What’s your favorite animal?”

I looked over at Coryn, over-acting the way I’d been taught to do in costume. I turned back to the crowd.

“I’m a little partial to owls.”

* * *

"Stopping for a second, Aegis, I wanna try something." I had Coryn wrap her arms around my chest and under my arms, and her legs deformed to go around my waist and thighs in the same way a rock-climbing harness did. I tried and mostly succeeded in keeping her paint in her Dust and off of my costume. When I felt secure, Coryn began to lift.

Aegis paused above me and watched, floating with his shield strapped to his back.

"Awesome," Kid Win on Console said, apparently watching through nearby traffic cameras. "Clockblocker owes me a dare, he didn't think you could do it."

"Guess you figured out the flying thing," Aegis called over to me.

"Kind of," I called back. Coryn's wings beat rhythmically, although I knew they didn't really need to. Dust didn't have weight and it went where I told it to with no regard for gravity; Coryn didn't fly using any principles of aerodynamics, her wings were for show. It still felt more natural to flap them, so I did.

"Not a big fan," I admitted as he came closer. "Flying is nice, but it's not great having all my eggs in one basket. With Coryn keeping me up, I don't have a lot of offensive capability."

"I'll keep it in mind," he nodded. "But you have to admit, patrolling is going to be a lot easier like this."

I could admit that. It was my first real patrol, after a full week of shared console shifts to get an idea of what to expect. Our route was planned out in a rough sense, but we could deviate in any direction for a couple blocks. We weren't allowed to wander into known gang territory without backup, which was easier said than done sometimes. The Merchants, for example, didn't so much hold territory as they just lived everywhere underfoot like cockroaches.

"Just remember if we get any action, you're supposed to keep your distance," Aegis nodded at me, more specifically at my lightweight costume.

"If Clock was here, he'd make you pay for that phrasing," I told Aegis.

He winced. "And I'd just fly away from his ground-bound as-self." No cursing in costume was a memo we got once a week through our Ward email.

"Nice catch," Kid Win said over comms. "By the way, EMS call north-north-east of you, car accident. Services are on the way, but you can get there faster. Sounds like there might be someone trapped in one of the cars."

Aegis took off, at a slight angle with the streets flowing past underneath us. The car accident entered the range of my Dust sensors quickly, and I sent one in to the overturned car.

It looked like a T-bone collision, one car coming out of a nearly-blind alley to slam into the other. The second car was probably going pretty fast, as it continued farther down the street and eventually wound up upside down. The car from the alley was sitting empty, engine off but lights on, only bystanders around it.

My sensor in the overturned car found a dark-skinned woman hanging from her seatbelt, arms splayed limply against the roof. There were more gawkers gathering around her car, but none of them were moving to help.

I relayed this to Aegis and Console as we approached.

"Empire territory," Aegis muttered, scowling. "Even if they aren't in the Empire, they can't afford to be seen helping one of the  _ coloreds _ . I'm going to see if I can get her conscious, you keep the people back and see about finding the other driver."

Coryn dropped me between the two cars and then went over to Aegis at the overturned one, keeping the rubberneckers back with her wings flared as a barrier. I scanned the crowd with a dozen eyes, looking for someone with injuries, someone moving funny. No luck, so I spread my net wider, looking for someone leaving too quickly.

A couple alleys away, I found a man limping along steadily, cursing with every step. There were stains of blood in the corners of his nose and mouth, and a faint powder all over his upper body: the airbag released powder as it deployed, and the force of it hitting had given him a nosebleed.

"Found the other driver," I reported. "Alley between... Clayton and Broad. Can I send Coryn to detain?"

Console was mute for a long minute, while I shifted from one foot to the other in agitation. The man was slowly approaching the end of my range.

"Confirmed, apprehend the suspect," Kid Win said. "I told the police to send a cruiser that way, so just hold him there. Coryn has a flare for them?"

She and I both had five red flares attached to our belts as part of the standard hero loadout. "Yeah... okay, I have him secured. I'll bring him to the sidewalk and flare it."

The man was spitting and cursing at Coryn, but I ignored him. Hit-and-run scum had nothing important to say.

"Lazarus, come help me with this woman. She says her neck is fine, but I need you to pull her out while I lift the car," Aegis said. I vaguely remembered hearing him and the woman talking through my sensor, but of course while I was concentrating on Kid Win I couldn't listen to them too.

This was a problem I needed to work on. If I can multitask a thousand Dust motes at once, I should be able to split my attention between two conversations.

I went to Aegis, took hold of the woman's wrists and felt her grab mine in turn, and together we managed to pull her from the wreck. She was alternately trembling and stuttering thanks at us as she scrambled farther away. I watched, but the car didn't seem like it would explode the way movies had taught me it would.

An eighteen-inch piece of rebar stabbed into Coryn's chest like a spear. She staggered, rotating her head to see where it had come from; outside my range, I saw a figure floating on a cement slab coming toward Coryn.

"Rune of the Empire is coming up on Coryn's position," I reported, taking a step away from the victim and looking at Aegis. His expression was resigned.

After a moment, Kid Win came back: "Pull her back to your position, Lazarus. Do not engage with Rune." Another beat, and he explained, "You're in Empire territory, there's no backup nearby. Don't antagonize her."

I hated the injustice of it; she got to pick a fight, and I had to back down? Had I left high school bullying for the high-stakes world of cape bullying?

No, fuck that.

"Fine," I agreed. Coryn spread her wings and took off, flying back to Aegis and me.

With the hit-and-runner still in her talons, wrapped up like I had been a few minutes ago; Kid Win hadn't said to leave him behind.

The first Aegis knew of it was the sound of screaming coming from above us as Coryn circled while I cleared a spot for her to land. Through the eye-slit in his helmet, he gave me a withering look.

"Sorry, was I supposed to let him go first?" I asked, pretending not to understand. "Also, incoming." Rune was following Coryn.

"Console, please advise," Aegis asked, watching Rune approach.

"Uh... I've directed backup toward you guys, Assault and Battery ETA eight minutes. Try to retreat south-east if you can."

"Retreating. Lazarus, drop the suspect."

"You sure? They're still pretty high."

He glared. "You know what I meant!"

"Console, please advise EMS that I'll be leaving the suspect restrained near the scene," I waved to the dark-skinned woman, motioning her to come over. "Hey, this is the guy that hit you. He's tied up with zips right now, already pretty beat up. Don't hurt him, and hand him over to the police when they get here. If someone else tries to rescue him, uh, don't fight them."

"You can't just - Jesus! Let's go!" Aegis gained something of an accent when he was exclaiming in surprise. Rune had sent two more bits of rebar rocketing into the ground near us.

Either her aim was shit or those were warning shots.

"Yeah, let's lead her away." I sent Coryn up, joining Aegis in the air. "You fly, I'll run. Coryn can do more without carrying me."

"Fuck off!" Rune shouted at us as her slab floated closer, shooting out two more bars from under her hands. There seemed to be an ample supply gathered in a hollowed-out section of the slab, which she touched with her power as she knelt for balance.

She couldn't be allowed to keep those, I decided. I sent Coryn toward her, chasing as she dodged in all three dimensions. We were pretty evenly matched for speed, but her power didn't seem to cancel out momentum; she didn't change direction as fast as I did. Coryn latched on to the edge of her slab and crawled forward.

It was only when Coryn had a handful of rebar that I realized the flaw in this plan: if I dropped it from this height, I might just kill someone myself.

"Aegis, you ever played catch before?" I asked over comms, panting from the effort of running.

"You gonna throw her ammo at me?"

"Yeah, get below. I'll go a few at a time, hold them together with Dust."

"Got it. Be careful."

Careful or not, Rune couldn't do much to Coryn. She was beating my minion with two more bars, one in each hand, but having little effect. Coryn clung to the concrete slab with little vine-like tendrils of Dust, so there was no shaking her off. She was also shouting something I wasn't paying much attention to, but I'm sure I heard her drop the n-bomb a couple times.

Rune darted forward, trying to tag the bundle of rebar as Coryn dropped it off the slab, but wasn't fast enough. She did see Aegis below waiting to catch it, and pointed both her current weapons his way.

He could probably survive getting impaled by those, but I didn't want to risk it. "Aegis, dodge!" I shouted into comms, as I split off the bottom half of Coryn to intercept. Both halves reformed into Coryn's default shape, although smaller.

The second Coryn - Nyroc, I'd call her - had taken half her paint, but it wasn't as evenly distributed. Abstract swirls outlined just the vaguest shape of her as she dove after Rune's projectiles. Nyroc caught both of them, but apparently Rune still had hold with her power because they wrenched themselves upward, out of my grip, and then came right back.

Aegis had caught the first bundle of rebar and deposited it safely on a roof, and was flying back up for more. Rune tried to get at her ammo, but Coryn had spread a wing across the hole and Rune had no way of getting through, nor the strength to lift it up. She shouted in frustration and the slab started to drop, toward a lot more options for her power.

"I got her ammo, grab her," I panted to Aegis. "And then run."

Coryn watched as Aegis tackled Rune off her slab, both of them clinging to each other for Rune's life. The slab still gave chase, now rotating freely but still under her control. Coryn scooped the remaining rebar up and dove for the ground just as the slab turned upside down and would have dumped them.

"Console," was all I could say, out of breath as I was. The two bars Nyroc had been chasing were inert again, and I rejoined my two minions.  


"Someone flare up for Assault and Battery," Kid Win ordered. "It's dark, they can't see you."

I had Coryn light a flare and stick it in her back. My body moved along at a pathetic jog, falling behind. 

I need more Dust. Enough to carry myself without Coryn, at least.

"Let's see how  _ you  _ like being taken hostage," a voice snarled to my left. Hookwolf was standing in the middle of the street, his metal mask glowing under the lamps. He ran at me, arms morphing into a mass of blades and fish-hooks.

I cut my open comm-line, so that it would only let sound through when I tapped it. The others needed to focus on Rune, not get worked up about me.

I tried to dodge, but Hookwolf's mass clipped my wrist and sent me spinning with the force of the blow. My whole left arm went numb; a quick assessment told me it was a shattered radius and ulna and wrenched elbow, but everything was still attached.

"The heroes are just getting more and more pathetic," Hookwolf growled, transforming even more. Metal covered his chest and crept up his neck. "Can you even do anything but stand there?"

My options were limited: Coryn was helping Aegis and her flare was leading backup right to them. The other Dust was great for surveillance, but grouped together it was only about a fourth the size of Coryn and not nearly dense enough at that size. If I pulled it into enough density....

I stood holding, from my perspective, a short black knife. The cutting edge was one speck of Dust, as thin as I could make it, but I didn't know how thin that translated to in real measurements. I always know where every mote of Dust is, but separated down to its smallest possible pieces, I can't see it anymore. That tiny, it passes through everything - which is how it can heal me even when my body is crushed under another object. The downside is that Dust only gets strong when there's enough of it packed together.

Hookwolf saw me with my right fist clenched and held awkwardly in front of me. I raised my left hand, fighting through the pain to make a 'come on' gesture. That limb was radiating alternately hot and cold up to my shoulder, which was difficult to ignore.

"I'll give you back to them in pieces!" Hookwolf snarled, lunging forward on all fours. I held my ground, closed my eyes, and stabbed forward blindly with my knife.

I didn't feel the impact of the knife, just the impact of him hitting my hand; I thought he'd slowed down, knocked my arm out of the way. Then the rest of his weight came crashing into me head-on, every blade cutting deep.

_ Thirty seconds _ . Everything had slowed down, gone cold. I recognized the feeling of weakness, the darkness gathering at the edge of my vision; this was blood loss, and I had about thirty seconds left.

_ The knife. _

It was there in Hookwolf's chest. I had hit but felt so little resistance that I thought I hadn't. I pulled it out, using my power instead of my hand - which was actually no longer attached to me anyway. Hookwolf grunted, shifting on top of me. Not dead, then. I tried, but I couldn't get the force or the leverage behind the knife to stab him again without using my own strength. Whatever lets me move my Dust, it doesn't give me enough force with such a small amount.  


And then I was dead, and I was only Coryn.

I slammed into Cricket again, wings flaring out to either side to confuse her echolocation. Her kama, lost a few seconds ago, laid abandoned behind me. I swept my wings closed around her and took off, up into the sky. 

There was Stormtiger in Assault's face, and Battery trading blows with Victor; Aegis still held Rune, high in the air where neither of them could really join in the battle. She had her arms wrapped around his grenade belt to stop him from reaching them, and was... biting his arm. He seemed content to allow this as long as it meant he could keep a grip on her. 

There: some space was opening up between Victor and Battery as Assault came in to give her time to recharge.

_ I hope for your sake that Othala's healing is as good as they say, _ I thought, and then I dropped Cricket between them.

She landed feet-first in front of Victor, letting out a ear-piercing noise that had everyone present cringing and covering their ears. Only Aegis seemed unaffected - and me, of course. 

I landed over her, Coryn’s wings flared protectively in front of Assault and Battery, beak open to issue a silent threat.

" _ I thought Hookwolf was taking care of the Master _ ," I heard Victor mutter something through one of my sensors. It made as much sense as any speech did while I was asleep.

There was a moment of tense silence where it seemed like they might try to keep fighting, and I clenched Coryn’s talons into the asphalt for grip. Then Stormtiger burst out with some exclamation.

Through the Dust around my body, I saw that the ribbons were almost done doing their thing. I collected the excess, but there wasn't much. Hookwolf was fully conscious again, as my regeneration had sliced off the pieces of him still in my flesh.

Hookwolf coughed, staring down at my corpse; blood came up with it, but nowhere near what it should have been. I came back into my body with a deep breath, my eyes flicking open and staring right at his.

"Try again." I told him. "Keep trying. Stay here while I kill all your friends."

Without another word, he swung a sword-arm at my neck and took off running. I could see Aegis in the sky, accidentally marking the site of battle for him, and then I saw Aegis start to fly away.

Victor and Stormtiger closed defensively around their fallen teammate; Coryn picked up Assault, and Battery took off with enough charge to shoot herself at least four blocks away. Once my head reattached, I rolled to my feet and turned my comms back on to hear the rendezvous, setting off at a refreshed jog.

Rune captured, Cricket out of commission for a couple days; this was an unconditional win as far as I was concerned.


	8. Lich 2.2

After-action reports weren’t usually given verbally directly to Director Piggot, but apparently it was the standard when things went sideways. Aegis handled a lot of it, standing in front of Piggot to tell her what we'd done and why. Standing up straight, shoulders back, hands behind his back. I wondered if it was his choice to look like a soldier facing a superior, or if they trained you to do that. I found myself unconsciously echoing him either way.

"Once we'd secured the scene, Lazarus requested to send her minion to look for the suspect, which I approved. We pulled the victim out of the wreck, because she was panicking about being stuck and might have injured herself further, and Lazarus reported that she'd apprehended a suspect. She then reported being engaged by Rune, to which I ordered her to bring her minion and the suspect back for both their safety, as she indicated they'd gone deeper into Empire territory."

I kept my face as blank as I could, staring at a spot over Piggot's shoulder. Aegis was lying and taking the blame for what I'd done. From a sensor, I saw his hands behind his back playing nervously with a tear in his costume.

"Rune pursued, so we left the suspect restrained at the scene for the police and tried to escape while fending her off and preventing collateral damage from her attacks. Lazarus stayed on the ground to be able to utilize her minion more effectively. We managed to disarm and capture Rune when her backup and ours arrived. I stayed in the air with Rune to keep her out of the fight, while Lazarus' minion, Assault, and Battery engaged with Victor, Stormtiger, and Cricket. Once Lazarus defeated Cricket and the numbers became uneven, the Empire backed off enough that we could escape."

Why was he lying for me? What did he gain? Perhaps it was to make himself look better, to make it look like he had been in control instead of me acting on my own - but then, what he described demonstrated that he couldn't be trusted with control at the same time.

Was he _protecting_ me?

"And how did Lazarus defeat Cricket?" Piggot asked. She was stone-faced and unreadable behind her desk. I didn't understand her, and decided I wasn't going to try. She'd show me who she was eventually; I didn't need anything from her enough to force the issue.

"Coryn picked her up and dropped her in the middle of the others' fight," I said, raising my chin a little. Would she chastise me? Would she praise my tactical thinking? "I know exactly what height it takes to kill a person, and I know they have Othala for healing."

Piggot's eyes narrowed at me for a moment. She leaned forward over her desk. "And did you check for civilians holding camera phones? Did you look around for businesses with security cameras, or CCTV, or traffic cameras? Did you look for witnesses?"

Surprised into honesty, I said, "No. Was I supposed to?" She made it sound like we were petty criminals, or bullies. _It's only okay if you don't get caught. Don't make us look bad._

It left a bad taste in my mouth.

"Always," Piggot said. "Always be aware of whose eyes are watching you. Your brutality could make the news, but the Empire's won't. People expect the Nazis to be brutal. We can't be seen the same way."

"What was I supposed to do?" I demanded, anger bubbling up. It was going to be chastising, not praise, and that was infuriating.

"Aegis could have let Rune go,” she snapped. Then she sat back with a deep exhale. "Although you weren’t ordered to, and we don’t know if that would have helped or just given them another cape in the fight. That's why I'm not punishing either of you, but do take this as a lesson for the future. You'll understand the importance of image someday."

Aegis and I left, heading back to the Wards' section of the base. We were silent; I was lost in thought, and Aegis didn't seem eager to start up a conversation. It was uncharacteristic of what I'd seen of him so far.

"Why did you lie to her about what I did?" I asked him as the elevator took us down. I didn't look over, but I watched him with my Dust.

Aegis glanced over at me, his brow furrowed, and shrugged. "You're new. Piggot can be a hard-ass sometimes, especially with newbies so they'll learn. You know what you did wrong, right?"

"Not really," I said. I scanned over the events of the night, but kept coming up with all positives. "We got the guy, captured Rune, and nobody even got really hurt. Aside from you, I guess. Sorry."

He waved off the comment about his stab wound. "I've got backup kidneys, don't worry about that. The problem is that you picked a fight we might not have been able to win. Rune was coming to save that guy, right? You realized that?"

I nodded. "It wasn't hard to figure out."

"Yeah, and you picked the fight anyway. That all could have gone way worse - what if Hookwolf showed up with the rest of them? Or Kaiser? The Empire can field more capes than the entire Protectorate East-North-East. We'll fight them over important things, but if we lost a hero to a little fight over a car crash?" He grunted. "Plus, we're not even going to be able to keep Rune. They'll break her out of wherever we put her."

I bit down on whatever was coming up, my jaw clenched. After all that, it was inevitable that she'd escape? What kind of revolving door prison were these people running?

The problem of Rune occupied my thoughts while I slept. To just sit back and let her go galled me, the same way the idea of letting the man get away with his crime had.

Aegis had seemed so resigned to it. Inevitable.

I had a little more Dust now, both from dying during my fight with Hookwolf and collected from the battleground. It was the first time I made the connection between a site where I found free-forming Dust and a site where people had fought and emotions ran high, but it made sense to me now.

And in the morning, it would be Monday and my first day of school at Arcadia. I'd use sensors, but I probably wouldn't find a need for Coryn, and sometimes she did get in the way. But could she do what I thought she could?

I pulled my command from her Dust, still aware of it but not controlling. She stayed where she was, crouched in the corner of my room watching over my body.

_Coryn._

I said it as I would have if I was embodied; as I would have if I were speaking through her. I can't explain how that feels to you, unless you've ever thought so hard about saying something that you can trick your mind into thinking you actually have.

She shifted, cocking her head and ruffling her wings.

_Find where they're keeping Rune. Guard her, be her warden. Don't let them take her back._

I waited to see if my Dust understood. If she was as independent as I thought she could be. And then she did - she crawled to the window and slipped through the crack I'd opened for some fresh air, reforming into her usual shape on the other side. She took off flying straight for the PHQ; I followed her to the edge of my range with a sensor and watched her leave it.

This was worth some more experiments later.

* * *

"How was school?" Dad asked through the open window, as he leaned over to hit the lock on the door. It always locked automatically, but the button to unlock it was stuck.

"First day, you know how it is," I said, hopping up into the truck's seat. "I got introduced and stared at a lot. It's nice, though - a lot cleaner than Winslow, and I didn't see any gang colors."

I stared at the school as we pulled away, collecting the last of my Dust. I'd heard a lot of speculation about which of the new transfers in my group today was the new Ward; I was not a front runner.

Dad cleared his throat. "Did you make any friends? Meet anyone?"

I shared math with Dennis, science and language arts with Chris, and they'd both made contact with the 'new girl'. I still ate lunch alone, though: it was a Monday, and they all left before the lunch period for their work release. I'd get into the work release program next week.

"Not really. People are friendlier here, but I'm still pretty new. I'm friends with the others."

I saw dad's hands flex nervously on the wheel. "Well, as long as you're happy. And there weren't any problems?"

I turned my head away so he couldn't see my annoyance. He danced around what he really wanted to ask like he thought the question would break me. "Dad, stop worrying. I'm fine."

He heaved out a sigh. We didn't talk for the rest of the drive to a Ward drop-off point.

Patrol was the Boardwalk with Clockblocker, strolling along smiling at civilians and signing the occasional autograph.

I had recalled Coryn from her task when I was outside the PRT base, waiting around a bit nervously for her to return from wherever she was. Probably the PHQ if what I thought was right. She couldn't tell me.

On our patrol, I kept her in the sky above us; to look for threats or disturbances, I told Clockblocker, but really just because I didn't want people crowding her. She was the closest thing we had to a Case 53 in Brockton Bay.

The Boardwalk was a boring beat: too high-end to spawn Merchant trouble, too white for the ABB, and the Empire didn't cause the same kind of trouble those two groups did. We got to break up a few overly-loud arguments, and our very presence disrupted anyone with light fingers. My sensors in the shops saw a few people duck their heads and hurry out as we passed.

The Enforcers nodded at us as we passed. That felt strange, knowing if I came here as just Taylor they'd throw me out of whatever store I walked into.

“See anything nefarious yet?” Clockblocker asked me in a lull between people approaching us.

If I were smoother or at least better at thinking on my feet, I’d have a witty retort for him. Instead, I said, “Petty thieves and a pickpocket. They’ve all scattered now, though.”

“Sh-dang, you can see anything through this crowd?”

I pointed up at Coryn. “She can.”

“Eyes in the sky,” he nodded. “Hey, Aegis said you can fly with her, right?”

I nodded slowly, with an idea of what he wanted.

“Take me up? C’mon, Aegis won’t let me do piggy-back rides anymore.”

Aegis was usually pretty accommodating, so that sounded off.

“It’s because last time I may have kicked him in the… well. Where it hurts. By accident! He was trying to drop me.” Clockblocker looked over and after a moment of examining his over-acted body language, I realized he was trying to give me the masked equivalent of the puppy-dog eyes.

“...Sure. Don’t scream too much.”

Coryn scooped him up, taking them both back into her usual hovering altitude near the top of my range. I heard a distant whoop from Clockblocker, much louder through Coryn, and some people nudged their friends and pointed up with big smiles.

Walking with Clockblocker was one thing; walking alone was a whole other. Apparently, two heroes are an invitation, but one alone is intimidating. You’d think it would be the other way around really.

This was supposed to be a boring, uneventful patrol, a break after the excitement of last night, and it was. I was so bored I started trying to make Coryn’s movements look more natural, starting with modeling the beat of her wings after the videos of owls I’d looked up.

We neared the end of the Boardwalk, the edge of another patrol zone although our timeline didn’t intercept Armsmaster’s. I heard a distant crack of lightning and in Coryn’s grasp Clockblocker jerked in surprise.

I looked up, but there were no clouds covering the night sky. More information started filtering in, things that were just now registering: the sound echoing through my sensors, amplified louder in some than in others. The world was oddly silent in the aftermath, as though all other noise and air had been sucked out of it.

The noise rushed back in with the sound of another gunshot, a bullet boring through Coryn’s chest.

Once I understood, once the shock passed, things started making a lot more sense. People around me were screaming and ducking for cover, the Boardwalk cleared out in a minute. Coryn and Clockblocker had been shot at. Clockblocker wasn’t moving.

I split a sensor off of Coryn to look closer at him. There was a hole in his abdomen, staining the costume bright red, and not a scratch on Coryn after she reformed around the hole.

“Clock, talk to me,” I whispered through Coryn. Louder, aware that we were too far up to be heard, I shook him and demanded, “Dennis, _wake up_.”

He groaned. “Mm not sleeping, ‘m dying. Laz, I don’t wanna die.” He sounded scared.

“Dead people don’t talk, aside from me. And that’s a gut wound, this isn’t the movies, nobody dies from those. Calm down.”

“Fffffuck,” he croaked, breath hitching. There was a strange guttering noise in his chest. “This doesn’t feel like my sto- _hh_ -mach.”

I kept using more of Coryn’s Dust to clot his wound, but I looked at where he was clutching as well. His shoulder armor was dented ever so slightly upwards.

No exit wound.

“Sorry about your armor,” I said, then Coryn tore off the shoulder piece, letting it fall. He shrieked, and then apparently blacked out for a moment. I saw another wound underneath, messier than the entry but without the power to punch through his armor anymore. A tiny glint of metal in the wound. I started pouring Dust over that, too, but I knew I couldn’t do anything for whatever hell the bullet had wrought internally.

On the Boardwalk I scanned for the direction of the bullets, head spinning dizzily for a moment. My sensors were following the echo back, trying to find the sniper.

Suddenly, Dust started streaming _out_ of Clockblocker’s wounds, and I couldn’t make it go back in. I was aware of it, and I was _sure_ that I could control it, was currently in control of it, but it wasn’t doing what I told it to. In a second all the Dust was gone, flowing into Coryn where it had come from, and then the blood stain was shrinking too.

As I watched, a bullet came sliding out of Clockblocker’s gut, floating backwards.

The bullet dropped, and I had control of my Dust again. I did what I should have done in the first place and pulled Coryn down with me on the boardwalk; this time I made her wrap her wings around Clockblocker, just in case someone wanted to take another shot at him.

New rewind-powers or no, I didn’t want to risk a headshot.

“What the fuck?” Clockblocker whispered to me when they landed. “Hey, Lazarus, what the _fuck_?”

“You got shot,” I said. “Doesn’t seem to have stuck, though.”

“Yeah, but like why?” he demanded, still whispering. He was crouched down even after Coryn let go of him, and motioned for me to crouch as well. I rolled my eyes and did so.

“I assume someone was trying to kill me, unless _you’ve_ pissed someone off recently?” I asked.

“Just the usual. I don’t think Armsmaster was _this_ angry about the halbeard joke.”

“Uh, Clock? Lazarus? Care to explain why I’m getting reports of shots fired on the Boardwalk?” Aegis, on Console duty for the night.

“Then it’s probably the Empire, because I captured Rune and made fun of Hookwolf. Sorry you got shot.” I was apologizing for other people’s injuries pretty often lately. I hit the comms to say, “Someone took a shot at Coryn and Clockblocker, we’re both fine and no one else was hit.”

“I got better,” Clockblocker sounded confused. Then, “Oh my god, I second triggered. I can rewind stuff now!”

“Cool,” I said absently. I toggled the comm again. “I’ve been looking for the sniper. I think I’ve found his spot, but he’s gone. Permission to investigate?”

Clockblocker’s head twisted around to look at Coryn, then back at me.

I pressed my lips together. Well, I hadn’t really been trying that hard to keep it a secret. I said to him, “I can see and hear through all my Dust, not just Coryn.”

“Neat. So is that _also_ a second trigger, or…?”

His whole face was covered, but I thought I read his tone right. I decided to trust him, which seemed the least I could do since I nearly got him killed. “Yeah, let’s go with second triggers all around.”

“You have a go on investigating the sniper nest. I’ve activated your GPS beacons, Armsmaster will be meeting you there.”

“Looks like he might get his revenge for the halbeard joke after all,” I told Clockblocker. He was taking his own resurrection about as well as I had for my first few. “You okay?”

“Peachy keen, let’s go,” he looked down at his hands, curling and uncurling the fingers. “And I think I might have a trick when we get there.”

* * *

The sniper’s perch was the bell tower of an old, dilapidated church. It wasn’t a stone gothic type of church, although it had once tried hard to make people forget that detail. Now every window was boarded up with plywood and the whitewash paint was peeling away everywhere.

The bell tower stood out above the other buildings in the area, with a clear line of sight down the Boardwalk. It was just on the edge of affluent, a few unusable empty lots between the church and middle-class strip mall. The area looked familiar, I thought I might have buried some extra body parts in one of the overgrown lots.

“Up there,” I nodded to the red carpeted stairs leading up, past an open door behind the altar. It would have been pitch-black except for the flashlights we both carried.

The structure swayed uncomfortably as we ascended, and I kept Coryn near Clockblocker to grab him up if it collapsed.

At the top, where the bells used to hang, there were two huge spent casings and a space cleared from the debris of various boards and planks of wood. The open window looked right out over the Boardwalk, lit up as a glittering stream of lights.

“What did you want to try?” I asked, waving at the casings.

He came closer and put a hand on my shoulder. I was about to tell him that now was not the time for a freezing prank, and then I realized he was concentrating on the sniper’s perch.

The world jerked around us, a feeling in my stomach like when an elevator dropped quickly. There was a noise behind us, and I turned to watch a man come up the stairs backwards. Walk backwards to the window. Start unpacking a rifle.

It was incredible, but at the same time I was also aware that it wasn’t real: I could still feel the Dust outside of the effect, still control it as usual. We weren’t in the past, just watching it like a movie. Clockblocker didn’t realize, and he reached out to grab the man as he pulled the trigger.

His hand passed right through, and the man didn’t react. “Damn,” he muttered, pulling back.

We watched the rest of it in silence, as the sniper pulled the trigger again and then sat for a little while, aiming. Then he packed up, moved some boards and wooden pallets over near the window, and walked backwards to the stairs.

The effect ended but the vertigo in my stomach remained; I felt like I might have thrown up if it went for very much longer.

“I think that was Victor. Empire, like you said.” I thought from his tone that Clockblocker was upset, too.

Victor hadn’t been wearing a mask. We knew his face now.

“Clockblocker, Lazarus, report,” Armsmaster’s voice broke our silence.

“Shit.” Clockblocker said, his eyes wide. “Do we tell Armsmaster?”

“We’re up in the bell tower, Armsmaster,” I said into my comms. I locked eyes with Clockblocker and said to him, “Have to. He’ll want to see the image for himself, and this guy took a shot at you. He would have _killed_ you.”

“You shouldn’t have entered the structure without knowing how stable it is, but my scan indicates it’s sound enough. I’m coming up.”

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” Clockblocker said in a harsh whisper, and then fell silent. Armsmaster could be heard, his footsteps creaking on the stairs.

Since Clockblocker was busy poking alternately at his side and his shoulder, I explained everything to Armsmaster: being shot, a second trigger, finding this place. As expected, Armsmaster wanted to see the sniper for himself.

I watched from the outside with my own eyes this time. Nothing changed, and based on how long they took things weren’t happening in exactly real-time: the five minutes they spent staring at the window weren’t enough to have seen the whole thing played out moment by moment.

When Clockblocker’s rewind ended, he staggered away from Armsmaster and flicked off the bottom half of his mask, letting it clatter on the wooden floor to the side. He hunched over and vomited, although not a lot came up.

 _The nauseous effect must compound the more he does it_ , I noted.

Armsmaster’s mouth was a thin line of anger. “This was… unacceptable. They’ve gone too far.”

“They might have thought it was me flying with Coryn,” I volunteered. I’d used the time to think. “Since I was the one who started the fight with Rune.” And taunted Hookwolf, not that they knew that part.

“Your costumes look completely different,” Armsmaster dismissed. “Even if he was only aiming at your minion, Victor took a shot at a Ward. He was acting as a cape, whether or not he was wearing a mask.”

“What does that mean?” Clockblocker asked, wiping his mouth as he took a wobbly step back to us. “And does anyone have some water on them?”

Armsmaster took a thin canteen off his hip and handed it over. He said, “It means that if you ID him in your civilian identity, you report it as soon as you safely can. It means we can get a forensics team in here to sweep for prints or DNA, although I didn’t see him take off his gloves. Clockblocker, report tomorrow for power re-testing.”

“Got school tomorrow,” Clockblocker said, and then tipped his head back to gargle some water and spit it.

Armsmaster took a calming breath. I wondered if Clockblocker practiced being annoying. “Wednesday after school, then. Let’s go. I want full reports by tomorrow evening. Piggot will probably also want to talk to you.”

Clockblocker’s lip curled up, and I’m sure there was a similar expression on my face. _Great_.


	9. Lich 2.3

It was Thursday, a couple hours after another incredibly dull day of school. Patrol was due to start soon, and I needed to be in costume even though I was on Console.

I felt it - heard it - the moment the atmosphere changed in the main room. My sensor picked up a sudden silence in the usual pattern of conversation. I replayed what I’d heard but not paid attention to.

“She can hear you.” Dennis had said.

“What?” Carlos asked.

I kept spraying on Coryn’s face-paint. Once I got her face, wings, and feet she’d put on the cloth part of her costume.

“She can hear through all her Dust, not just Coryn. I’m pretty sure she’s always listening, right Taylor?”

I broke up a few sensors to send a storm of Dust ruffling through Dean’s homework papers, lying finished in a neat pile on the table.

“Jesus,” Dean leaned back. “Okay, hi.”

Finished with Coryn’s costume, we both came out of the girls’ locker room.

“How long have you been able to do that?” Carlos asked.

I watched Dennis with a sensor. Would he contradict me? “Since Monday. I figured it out when I was trying to track down the sniper.”

Carlos’s nose wrinkled, and then he grinned. “Well, that’s great! Have you told Piggot or Armsmaster yet? They can get your ratings upgraded - ”

“I’d rather not,” I interrupted. He seemed surprised. How to phrase this? “I… had some difficulty with the system at my old school, and after hearing about what happened with Challenger and Armsmaster I don’t think the PRT is much different. I like all you guys, I trust _you_. I don’t really trust them.”

“Uh, who’s ‘them’?” Dean asked.

Missy rolled her eyes. “The PRT, duh.”

“Right,” I nodded at her with a small smile, which she returned. “Look, I want you guys to know because it could affect something in a fight or on patrol. It doesn’t really affect the PRT, except that I can hear things I shouldn’t.”

“Then you can listen in on stuff you shouldn’t,” Carlos interjected. He wasn’t really angry, I thought, just confused.

“Should that matter? I’m not listening in on private conversations, just the stuff to do with me and you guys. They’re supposed to be acting in our best interests. They shouldn’t have secrets from us, _about_ us. What could I overhear that I shouldn’t already be allowed to know?”

“Then why listen at all? If you think they’re telling us everything?” Dean, this time. I’d figured he would have the biggest attachment to authority. People like him always did.

“I hope they are. So far, that’s held true. I just want to know if that changes.”

“Like what? What do you think’s gonna happen?” Dennis, but he was… worried.

“I don’t know. All I _do_ know is that… look at what happened to Shadow Stalker. We don’t know what she did, or what they did with her. _Anything_ could have happened. Anything could happen to Chris, tomorrow, and we might never know what because they decided not to tell us. Doesn’t that sound wrong to anyone else?”

Chris finally looked up from his hoverboard and said, “Huh?” He’d apparently missed the entire conversation thus far. “What’s happening to me?”

“If they didn’t tell us, it would be because it was none of our business,” Dean said weakly.

I just shot him a look.

He looked down and sighed. “Yeah, okay. I get your point. Still, it feels… wrong.”

“You don’t have to do it,” I told him. “You just have to not do anything about it. Not doing things is easy.”

* * *

I’d been through a whole week of console training shifts with one of the other Wards on hand as a teacher, and I had thought that _that_ was tedious. It turned out that without another person to distract me, it was even more boring.

I resorted to forming and reforming Coryn, experimenting with making her claws and talons as sharp as the knife I’d made for Hookwolf. I could do it, but it wasn’t her default shape and I could tell she’d go back to her blunter version outside my range.

Console duty was maddening. There were only a few screens in front of me, when I knew I could watch hundreds more with the exact same amount of effort. The stream of data was a dripping faucet compared to what I needed to feel engaged. In desperation, I had sensors peering down every street and alley in my range around PRT HQ, trying to distract myself. I was also sitting at the table finishing my homework while Coryn manned the Console itself, the wireless comm headset over my head.

I heard through the comms and saw through Coryn’s eyes on the cameras: Multiple disturbances reported along Harrow Street, a police car in pursuit of a fleeing sports car.

“Go check it out,” I said to Aegis and Vista, directing them on a likely intercept course. “Be careful, there’s been reports that the car does weird things. Doesn’t look like one of Squealer’s though.”

“Shame,” Vista said, “I owe her one.”

I grinned, staring down at my trig homework for a moment. Then I realized I should probably get up and get to the Console in person, or I might go the same road Armsmaster had been down.

I watched through the traffic cameras as the fleeing car careened down the street, swerving wildly. I saw why a moment later, when I paused the video on a good shot and saw that the guy in the front seat wasn’t holding onto a steering wheel: he was holding up a video game controller, elbows raised level with his shoulders, staring with concentration at the road. Next to him was another person; both wearing masks.

“Aegis, Vista, it’s Uber and Leet. They’re probably doing a racing game theme this time.”

“Costumes?” Aegis asked.

I checked the still again. “Not really. They look like regular people, wearing really fake regular people masks. I’m calling in Clock and Kid Win for your backup, their eta is just after yours.”

“Please tell Clockblocker to remember physics when he’s freezing things,” Aegis said. “Or he might think it’s a good idea to freeze the car while the people inside are still going forty an hour.”

Yes, that would be very unfortunate. I relayed the orders to Clockblocker, who called Aegis a name that sounded very much like Clock’s, but missing a letter.

“Should I relay that message, Clockblocker?” I asked, injecting some sweetness into my tone. I’d heard Vista talk to them like this, and it seemed to work.

“Sure, he knows what he is,” Clockblocker said.

I didn’t actually repeat it. I have zero interest in saying that over our recorded comms.

The traffic cameras didn’t catch her, but I knew when Vista got there by the way reality started warping. The street stretched out like taffy, the car suddenly slowing to a crawl compared to its surroundings. She bent the street into a bowl, keeping the car from turning off, and then started tilting it up.

The display of power was breathtaking. I’d sparred with Vista, or at least Coryn had, but she was in her element with a bigger area and bigger targets.

Uber and Leet spilled out of the car doors just as the front end started warping. They immediately pulled out weapons, some Tinkertech that looked like a grenade launcher and another resembling a machine gun.

Aegis pulled their attention, landing on top of the abandoned car. The police pursuit had stopped at the end of Vista’s warped space, the officers disgorged from the cars and creeping slowly forward.

I switched over to their communications for a moment, telling them that the Wards had it under control and to stay back. It was PRT protocol to keep the regular police out of a cape altercation: they didn’t have the training to deal with capes, or to coordinate with friendly ones.

It was something of a rush to watch them back off at my command, but I put that to the side. I needed to focus on Aegis and Vista.

“Put down your weapons,” I heard Aegis say to Uber and Leet, standing with his shield up.

I couldn’t hear the response, but I saw Leet taking aim at him with the machine gun while Uber pointed the launcher back at the police.

“Guns, guys? You know what bringing guns does, right?”

“Sure, I’m stalling. It’s not like you can escape, though.”

There was a moment where I watched Leet respond on the cameras but still couldn’t hear it. Then I watched him shoot at Aegis, and Uber fired at the police.

But whatever he launched didn’t go down the street toward the police. It flew out of the back of the launcher, behind him, rising up….

“Shit!” I heard Vista cry out, and then her line went dead.

I hit the red button on the Console, connecting it to Vista’s last known location. I said, “Go.”

Coryn melted into Dust and filtered out of the base through the air exchange, leaving her costume behind.

Aegis had ducked behind his shield, letting it take the spray of gunfire. He hadn’t seen the grenade launcher’s target, but he heard Vista’s exclamation and then the emergency broadcast I’d hit. He jumped straight into the air for Vista’s position, letting Uber and Leet scramble away - back into their car. The street was already melting back into its normal shapes, not a good sign.

_I’ve done everything I can. I can help more by being right here right now._

Repeating it to myself didn’t make it feel any more true. The room was suddenly freezing cold and absolutely silent, even though the Console was still making all the same noises it had been moments ago.

Until Aegis’ voice crackled through the speakers, “She’s alright. She’s okay.”

“What happened?” I demanded. I couldn’t see a thing of the rooftop they were on. “What was it?”

“No idea - some idea. There was a thing before you joined, Clockblocker faced Leet and couldn’t tap him out for some reason. Armsmaster said they might have come up with a way to absorb his power’s effect. Vista just looks like Clockblocker froze her and everything around her.”

“I didn’t!” Clockblocker and Kid Win, finally in range. “And Aegis, don’t tell anyone.”

“Don’t tell anyone what?” I asked. It didn’t sound like he was talking about the time-frozen Vista.

I could hear a grin in Aegis’ voice as he said, “You two are looking really cozy up on Kid’s board.”

“Shut up! That thing doesn’t have seatbelts! Man was not meant to fly, you freaks!”

He had just begged to go flying with Coryn a few days ago, but perhaps it was different on a hoverboard.

“How long until she unfreezes?” Kid Win asked.

“Look at the stuff on the edges, it’s falling down. I think the effect is fading.”

I breathed out a sigh of relief, cancelling the emergency call with a short recorded explanation that would go out to the responders. My heart was only now beginning to calm down, and somewhere out there I’d told Coryn to hunt down Uber and Leet, thinking Vista was dead.

 _Don’t kill them_ , I thought to her - I wasn’t sure how our communication really worked, but I thought she could get messages from me. Then I remembered the heart-pounding fear, and not being able to do anything about it. _But you can scare them a little._

“What about Uber and Leet? Console, can you see them?”

I flicked through traffic feeds, faster than most people would be able to see. I could check every screen at once, after all.

“I’ve got nothing here. Some sort of disguise or a safe-house, I think.” I tried to sound disappointed, frustrated, and it wasn’t difficult. I wanted to be out there, in the middle of this, not sitting behind a computer screen.

But I had faith in Coryn, and that was the next best thing.

* * *

It knows everything she does, but rarely does the knowledge matter. Even if you could teach calculus to a bird, the bird would never have a reason to use it.

It doesn’t resent her control, nor enjoy it. It knows these feelings, but they also don’t matter; it cannot feel them. It feels what she feels, when she feels strongly enough. Or when she pushes the feelings into it.

Right now, it’s angry. Anger without hot blood to pulse, without teeth to grind or breath to be stolen; not the kind of anger a human being would recognize. It knows where to go to pick up the trail, and it’s prepared to search for as long as it takes - until she calls it back.

The anger lessens as it reaches the street she saw. _Don’t kill them_ , she says. _Just make them afraid._

It considers what she knows of fear. The dark, the unknown, the enclosed spaces. Being hunted.

Yes, it can do that.

It knows everything that she does, but it also knows some things that she doesn’t. Things that she hasn’t puzzled out yet, things that are hidden from her… for now. It follows the scent of death and fear, the scant trail of Dust, that its targets leave behind them. They have killed, not many, but even one leaves a mark. The Dust remembers.

The car driving down the street at a sedate pace looks nothing like it used to, changed by some mechanism. It can still seem them inside, two figures outlined in the dark, the only people in the world right now. It folds its wings and dives.

The car bounces and screeches as it lands on the roof, claws digging in. Puncturing the thin metal skin and the barrier beneath. It makes its claws as sharp as she showed it how to, dragging its fingers through the metal, rending three perfect parallel lines in it.

There’s shouting from inside, the car swerving. It cocks its head, but it knows they aren’t scared enough yet. When they _truly_ feel fear, they’ll be able to _see_ it.

It goes silent and still, waits for the targets to settle. It flicks one leg down the side of the car and pulls the handle, rattling it because the lock is engaged.

More screaming. It lets go of the door and begins to systematically smash spider-webs into the windshield of the car. When the whole pane threatens to collapse, it switches again to prying the car door off.

The car comes to a stop with a hard turn and the brakes screaming, lifting up onto two wheels for a second. The doors fly open and the targets scramble out, calling out to each other. They want to group up, their fear will be lessened because they’ll have someone to share it with.

It splits itself in half, even though this _hurts_ . She has showed it the advantages of changing shape, and like her it is willing to suffer for the objective. One body for each of the targets, to harry them and keep them apart… make them afraid. Alone, in the dark, chased into a corner by a shadow they can’t see. Until they _can_ see it.

Then it will return to her.

* * *

Coryn hadn’t returned by the time the patrols got in, and was still missing when I stepped out into the cool night air to walk home. Covering for her absence wasn’t as difficult as I’d feared; the others assumed that any floating thing was representative of her, and I had enough spare Dust to make the cloth part of her costume float.

She returned to my range when I was in sight of my house, flying high above. I seized control, a wave of relief sweeping over me - why? I hadn’t been afraid - and brought her down to me.

“How did it go?” I asked her, smiling a little. Vista and Aegis had been able to walk off their adrenaline, but mine had left me shaky at the Console. I still felt like there was a fight I was missing.

She was holding something hooked onto one talon, I saw. I made her lift that foot, and pulled off a blood-spattered scrap of denim, the hem of someone’s jeans going by one edge.

“They’re still alive, right?” I asked, knowing I couldn’t get an answer.

I don’t want anyone to die. I know better than most the fragility of life, how precious and protected it must be. If I kill someone, I want them to deserve it. After all, I’m in a unique position to be able to take the time to consider it.

I spent a long moment staring down at the scrap, and then looked up at Coryn. “I guess I just have to trust that you do what I tell you.” No different from sending her to guard Rune.

Speaking of which; I released her from my control again, prepared to send her to her night duties.

_“Scared, alive.”_

I froze, wide-eyed. “Come again?”

_“Scared, alive. They live.”_

Coryn could talk. If I stopped controlling her, she could talk. Was she sentient? Was I Mastering the ghost of a real person?

No, she was made of Dust - my Dust. I’d manifested her, she was mine to control. Still - “Do you not want me to control you anymore?”

Her bird-head cocked to the side, gazing at me with a blank lack of understanding.

“How alive are you?” Nothing, no response. “If I left you standing right here, no control, no orders, what would you do?”

She crouched down on her long legs, wings folded back, eyes staring straight ahead at me, as still as a statue. And that seemed to be my answer: if I didn’t tell her what to do, she’d stay right here, unmoving, until I told her differently.

“Go guard Rune again. Stay hidden.”

Coryn left again, and I was still holding a bit of denim with blood on it; blood belonging to Uber or Leet. If the world was fair and just, and heroes outnumbered villains, I would be able to hand this to the PRT and track down their civilian identities.

I’ve known for a long time that if you want justice, you have to make it yourself - or grow beyond it.

I tossed the scrap into someone’s overgrown hedges, and kept walking.


	10. Lich 2.4

Downtime with the Wards wasn’t what I expected.

I don’t remember what Emma and I used to do for fun. I remember a lot of pretend games, a lot of me reading while she talked in the background. Looking back, I wonder if our friendship only existed because it was convenient. She wanted someone quiet and agreeable, and I wanted a buffer between myself and all the other kids. It made sense that I picked Emma, having known her my entire life through our fathers.

The Wards were a strange combination of professional and childish. If there were any adults in the room, or anyone watching, we all stood up straighter and put on our ‘hero’ faces. Vista especially wouldn’t unwind for anything - she barely even cracked a smile when Clockblocker made a joke.

They did homework together, talked about school and teachers. I sat with them, my books open, and I responded when someone directed something at me, but words didn’t flow as easily for me as it seemed they did for the others. Their complaints about teachers annoyed me - why complain? It helped nothing - and I couldn’t hear gossip about another student without wondering what they’d have said about  _ me _ , if they were all at Winslow. And somehow despite all of that, I wanted to like them and I wanted them to like me.

Something is broken inside me, maybe always was. Emma threw it in my face enough, calling me psycho or autistic or retarded, whichever she felt was fitting that day. There are times when I think that I see people clearer than they see themselves, and others when I can’t puzzle out anything at all.

At least Emma taught me to be silent, and consider how every word could be used against me.

I was beginning to think that that might be a double-edged lesson, because my silence seemed to be making the others uncomfortable: awkward pauses falling after I spoke, because I had said too little.

“What about a movie?” Carlos suggested. “That Aleph import series came out with a new one, I haven’t seen it yet.”

“Oh, the magic one? I’ve been trying to get Vicky to go, but she’s not interested in them.” Dean put in.

Dennis groaned. “We always wind up seeing a movie. What about doing stupid kid stuff, like spray-painting a dick on something? I need to live a little.”

“First of all, illegal,” Carlos put up one finger, counting off. “And second, you know why. Jesus, if I think about what the boss would do if we got caught….”

“Have an aneurysm,” Chris suggested.

“Come on, you’ve all seen her. Heart attack, for sure.” Dennis grinned, miming Piggot’s large form around himself.

“Why are we talking about going to see a movie?” I asked Missy as an aside, my voice low. I’d thought that the blocked off schedule on Fridays was for training, especially when I got the group notification to meet everyone here on the Boardwalk in front of the bridge to the PHQ.

“Mandatory time off. They used to say we couldn’t even hang out together, but then some idiot realized how stupid that was. It’s not like we make a lot of non you-know friends.” Missy rolled her eyes. “Why’d you ask? I mean, I love the job and all, but it’s good to just get out and relax.”

The constant forced boredom of school was enough relaxation for me; I wanted to leave and go  _ do  _ something. I wanted interesting, something to capture my attention, and I knew that experimenting with my power or going out as a cape would do that. It seemed like I was probably alone in those feelings.

“Got a better idea than a movie? What do you do for fun?” Missy asked it a little too loudly, drawing the attention of the others. 

“I read, mostly,” I said. “I haven’t seen any of that movie series you were talking about.”

“So that’s out,” Dennis announced. “Hands up for getting into trouble?”

Only his hand went up, although he did reach over and grab Chris’ wrist to raise it. Chris jerked his hand down and hit him with the back of it.

“I don’t mind starting at the end,” I volunteered.

“If you have questions about it, you can just ask,” Missy said. “I don’t mind filling you in, I’ve already seen it.” She scowled momentarily, as if thinking of something unpleasant.

“Movie it is. And dinner after? Dennis?”

Dennis sighed and patted his back pocket, where his phone was sticking out. “Yeah, I can do dinner. Gotta go right after though.”

The movie made about as much sense as I’d assumed it would, starting off right in the middle of a confrontation. The magic it depicted didn’t seemed to be based on any specific cape power, and everyone could use the same spells; it was strange to think that multiple people could share the exact same power. Wouldn’t that get boring?

I didn’t wind up asking Missy anything, mostly because what I did understand of the story had swept me up in it.

Dean complained after, “I can’t believe they ended it there! Do they know how long it’s going to take us to import the next one? Have they no decency?”

I found myself smiling, feeling a little more charitable about him. He seemed much more real when he wasn’t putting on a hero-show.

“I told you you wouldn’t like the ending,” Missy said, kicking lightly at his ankle. “Can we do Fugly’s for dinner? I’m starving, I need my whole week’s calorie intake.”

“Counter-offers?” Carlos asked, looking around our loose group gathered outside the theater. I’d noticed that even ‘off-duty’, he tended to take up a leadership position naturally. “Okay then, Fugly’s it is. I’ll start working on my arteries in advance.” He started us walking down the boardwalk toward the infamous restaurant.

“Cheater,” Dennis mumbled, checking his phone at the same time. “I’m gonna have to eat fast, maybe just some grease fries.”

I wondered why he alone seemed to be on a time limit, and checked my own phone: seven thirty. A bit late for my own dinner schedule, but I was hungry.

As we walked, Dean drifted away from Missy and closer to me. His head tilted in. “Hospital visiting hours end at nine,” he nodded at Dennis. “He wants to go see his dad.”

Oh, god.

“I’m - I’m sorry,” I stuttered, flushing and hating the heat in my face.

“It’s fine, he doesn’t mind people knowing, he just doesn’t like having to tell them. Anyway, I’m just telling you so you know it’s not us he’s trying to get away from.”

“What is it?” Dean seemed willing to share, and I couldn’t help the morbid question.

“Been fighting cancer for a while. Not sure of the specifics.” Dean was uncomfortable now, for some reason.

“You don’t need to say anything else,” I told him.

He sighed, wordless for a long moment. I watched the others, Chris thumping Dennis on the back for some comment he’d made, Carlos shoving his head down for the same. Missy walked alone between them and us, somehow dignified and quiet and thoughtful even though she was the youngest.

“It’s not that,” Dean said, eventually. “I’m dating Victoria - Glory Girl. And Panacea is her sister.”

I got it immediately. “So why hasn’t his dad been healed?”

“He hasn’t asked. I’ve… kind of brought it up once, felt it out. With, you know,” he waved one hand, indicating his power. “And she shut me down. I think he needs to ask her directly.”

I thought about that for a moment: having the power to heal but making a person beg for it first. Or even just making them  _ ask _ .

I think Dean must have felt the rush of disgust that brought, because he said quickly, “I don’t blame her, really. Her power is hard on her, there’s a lot of demands… the same as any of us. She’s a good person, she just needs to set boundaries so she can live her own life.”

I shoved my emotions away into Coryn, circling above us, and tried to think sympathetic thoughts to replace them.  _ That _ , I said to myself in a strange doubled train of thought,  _ is exactly the problem with Dean. He doesn’t blame anyone for anything, and some people need to be judged. _

“Still,” I said, catching sight of Fugly Bob’s glowing half-lit sign. “It’s kind of a shit thing to do.”

He didn’t respond. I figured that he had to agree, but couldn't say it.  


* * *

When Dennis ducked out of Fugly Bob’s early, I followed because I was tired and wanted to get home and be alone. Through my Dust I saw the group close in behind me, returning to the previous conversation about other movies they’d seen. Dean’s eyes followed me out, but I couldn’t tell what he was thinking of.

Dennis was walking quickly, forcing me to jog to catch up with him. Heading for a bus stop, I realized, and slowed down a bit. The next bus wouldn’t be here for a few minutes at least.

“Hey,” I said. “What number are you waiting for?”

“Following me home? You’re not good at being a creep if you come up and talk to me.” He grinned, but it looked a bit tired. “I’m waiting on three,” which I knew, already. Three was the only one on this route that went by the hospital. “You?”

“Six, then ten. I’ve got a while to go yet. Hey, whatever happened with your… thing that happened last time we were here?” I meant his second trigger, but of course I couldn’t say that. You never knew who might be listening.

Dennis sighed. “Some extra testing, new ratings, that sort of thing. I should’ve kept it secret, like you did. It was annoying, and Piggy got on my ass about separating from you, and I’ve got an extra session with the therapizer when one blows through.”

Right, I’d forgotten about the ‘highly encouraged’ therapy. I chose to focus on something else. “You call her Piggy?”

He grinned at me. “Yeah, I mean… she practically begs for it, y’know? The blond hair, how fat she is… It’s Miss Piggy from Sesame Street. See it?”

“I do now!” I was going to have to fight to keep a straight face the next time I was in front of her, imagining everything she said it Miss Piggy’s voice. “God, why did you do this to me? I have to work with her.”

“It is your last initiation,” he said, expression fake-solemn as he placed one hand on my shoulder, stiff-armed. “Now that I’ve shared the forbidden knowledge with you, you are truly one of us.”

For a moment I wanted that so intensely that it stunned me silent, and I didn’t respond in time.

Dennis removed his hand quickly, clearing his throat. “Um, I wasn’t trying to hit on you or anything. Sorry, made that weird.”

“No, I think I’m the one who made it weird,” I laughed, thought it definitely sounded forced. My Dust cloud would be whipping my clothes like the wind right now, if I hadn’t shoved the radius of it so far out. “Sorry, it’s just you guys are my first friends in a while… sometimes I don’t know what to say, and I don’t want to say the wrong thing. So, um, when you said that the only thing that popped into my head was ‘Dean told me about your dad’ and that would have been really bad.”

“Yeah, that’s always kind of a mood killer. Don’t worry about it.” Dennis looked down at his feet, kicking the sidewalk as he shifted them. “He’s been sick for a while, so - I’m used to it. It’s whatever.”

I felt like I should say something comforting, but what could I say that he hadn’t already heard?

A lot, actually. I’d come to terms with death a couple times now, first my mother’s and then my own, and I knew, always hanging over my head, that someday my dad would die… and I wouldn’t. Dennis could understand better than the others, but I didn’t think there was any good way to put the words _ I know how you feel; I’m going to outlive all of you; I have no choice _ .

“I already tried using my new power,” he said after another awkward pause. “And you know, I think it could work? I took him back through a whole day in a minute. Made him throw up, but it added a day, and I know I could’ve kept going. And he  _ doesn’t want it _ !”

I didn’t flinch, mostly because I’d incidentally trained myself out of flinching with a lot of my experiments. Still, his sudden shout took me off guard and caught the attention of a couple walking across the street; he didn’t seem to notice.

“He said he doesn’t want to live through the last few years all over again, just to end up back at the start still with leukemia and the whole thing ahead of him again. He doesn’t want to fight anymore. What kind of fucking bullshit is that?”

I heard, behind Dennis’ words, the same things that a younger me had grappled with: still convinced that your parents are all-powerful, all-knowing beings, you have to believe that if they’re  _ gone  _ it’s because they didn’t want to  _ stay _ .

I eventually had to realize that my mother was human, that no amount of willpower could have saved her, but Dennis wouldn’t have that comfort. His father was choosing to die rather than suffer and fight.

How much pain, for how long, would it take to make you give up on life?

Shouldn’t his family measure up against that? And if it did, if he had put his pain and his son against the measuring stick, Dennis had come up short.

There was nothing I could say to make that better.

Silence fell around us, Dennis breathing harshly and turned away from me. From the way he swiped at his face a few times, I thought he might be crying; if I was younger and this was Emma, I’d try a comforting hug. While I was considering that, the bus pulled up and I lost my chance.

“Sorry ‘bout all that,” Dennis said, speaking up over the noise of the engine and brakes. His voice was half-choked, and he didn't turn around to face me. “Didn’t mean to put that on you. See you later.”

“See you,” I echoed, and stood there to wait for my own bus.

* * *

“What’s on the schedule for today?” Dad asked, catching sight of me over his coffee cup. He had a half-finished plate of scrambled eggs in front of him, framed by the uneaten crusts of his toast.

I opened my mouth to reply and was interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn. “Meeting. Did you know heroes have meetings? The allure is fading.”

He chuckled. “Meetings are a universal thing. Wherever people try to organize, meetings happen. What’s it about?”

“There’s a weekly briefing on the state of the city in case any of us missed stuff. Who’s where, what’s new, who’s on vacation - that sort of thing.”

“Heroes take vacations?” he sounded surprised. “I’ve never heard of that. I guess it makes sense, though.”

“Yeah, they organize it specifically so you don’t notice. Can’t have the Nine dropping in because they heard Legend took a vacay to the Bahamas.” I found the orange juice in the fridge, and pulled it out to drink straight from the carton. Dad didn’t complain only because he never drank it.

“You gonna eat that?” I tipped my head at the rest of the eggs in the pan.

“Made it for you.”

I plated it, and sat down across from him at the kitchen table. I reached over and stole his crusts. “Wasteful.”

His smile was soft and a little sad: mom used to do the same thing to him, I remembered belatedly. “I was going to eat them, you know.”

“Mhm,” I mumbled, using a piece to scoop egg onto my fork.

I decided to use the PRT’s transport service to get to the PHQ, calling for a car from my phone. A countdown started, telling me my generic cab would arrive in about twenty-five minutes.

I used the time to gather up a bag, including my costumes and the notebook with my notes on my power. I had vague ideas about transcribing it so that people could stop asking me the same questions over and over again.

Twenty minutes later, a car pulled up with a taxi light on top of it and blacked-out back windows, and my phone chimed at me. I shouted a goodbye to my dad and dropped in, scooting across the seat to make room for Coryn. She pulled the door shut behind us.

“This thing have a divider?” I asked the driver. “I need to change.”

As an answer, a black panel rose up.

Changing in the backseat of a moving car wasn’t something I’d done since trips to the pool when I was younger, and I’d been smaller then. I wound up having to break Coryn apart to make room for myself, sending her Dust out through tiny cracks in the car to follow along behind. She’d just have to put her costume on once we were on the rig.

I met Aegis in the lobby, also already in costume and masked up; this part of the PHQ was still nominally public-access, although there wasn’t anyone here right now. He noticed the floating tabard next to me.

“No paint?” he asked, a smile in his voice.

“Not unless I wanted to get it on me, too. I think I’m going to have to ask for another way to color her, the painting is getting tiring.”

“I’m sure PR can come up with something. C’mon, our room is this way.”

He led me to the meeting room, opening the door to reveal that we were not the first to arrive; I hadn’t expected Aegis to meet me, being so early. I’d thought that I would be waiting in the lobby for someone to escort me, which was why I had a book in my bag as well.

Miss Militia was already there, in costume but her scarf pulled down; she gave me a smile and nod in greeting, then went back to talking to Triumph sat beside her around the large oval table. Then there was Assault and Battery, the former a lot more alert than the latter, and Dauntless bent over his phone on the table tapping at the screen rapidly.

“Aegis, Lazarus,” Assault nodded at both of us. He leaned back in his chair as far as it would go and held out a hand upside-down toward Coryn. “And Coryn! High five.”

Bemused, I made Coryn tap his fingers with her foreclaws.

“Yes! Love to go flying with you again sometime.” He stopped, thinking for a moment. “Somewhere without snipers, of course.”

“So I’m beginning to understand where Clockblocker might be getting it from,” I said to Aegis.

“My little protege,” Assault grinned, then flinched. “I mean… I’m trying to be a good role model?”

My Dust had seen Battery kick him under the table.

“What’s Dauntless doing?” Aegis asked, taking a seat next to Battery. I sat next to him, glad that I at least didn’t need to wonder which chair I should take.

“Still playing that crab game,” Battery said. She was clutching a steaming travel mug, and used it to cover a wide yawn. “Sorry, had the last patrol.”

“So did I, but I don’t have an aversion to caffeine, so I’m fine,” Assault said, sounding too smug. Battery kicked him again, but he must have absorbed it with his power this time.

“I use it when it’s important, which is why it still has full effectiveness on me,” she countered.

I sat back and listened to them bicker for the next few minutes while the others filed in. Clockblocker and Kid Win stumbling in at the end of a race that had taken them from the front door to the conference room, Gallant and Vista with Velocity, talking about the same movie we’d seen last night. The last to arrive was Armsmaster.

“Good morning,” he said, going straight to the massive screen at the front of the room. He tapped, waking it up, and touched his phone to the corner. The screen remained a blank gray, but I assumed that it had done what he wanted, because he then sat down at the head of the table. He took a quick glance around the table, eyes catching on me and then moving on.

“The villain groups in the city remain largely unchanged, barring our acquisition of Rune from the Empire. We faced some reprisal from them this past Monday in an unannounced attack on Lazarus and Clockblocker on the Boardwalk, during which Clockblocker was shot and had a second trigger. A sketch of the shooter, suspected to be Victor, and details on the investigation are in this briefing email.” He touched his phone, and a chorus of vibrations and pings rose up around the table. One eyebrow raised up. “Please keep your phones on silent for meetings.”

He continued while Kid Win, Dauntless, and Velocity played with their settings: “There have been unconfirmed sightings of a villain matching the description of Circus from upstate New York, but given her constant costume changes it could easily be a new villain or rogue of our own.”

“I got something there,” Assault broke in while Armsmaster was taking a breath. “Me’n Battery ran into her on this patrol while she was casing out a jewelry store on Lord Street, chased her off just by showing up.”

Armsmaster nodded. “I’ll put it in our weekly report that she’s in town.” He tapped his phone again, and the screen behind him lit up with a satellite map view of Brockton Bay, important streets and landmarks outlined in red. “The villains’ claimed territories haven’t shifted much, although you’ll note that the Merchant presence in the Docks was beaten back by Lung and Oni Lee. Coil’s mercenaries seized a full block into Empire territory sometime after Rune’s capture, and while there hasn’t yet been a response from them we can expect fighting to break out in the area soon. I’ll be increasing Protectorate patrols through the block.”

I figured it would probably be useless to ask if the Wards would be allowed to patrol there: we were allowed to fight if we happened upon one, but they didn’t like us to go looking.

“Velocity and I encountered and broke up an Empire fighting ring early Friday evening,” Armsmaster nodded at Velocity, “So this hasn’t been a good week for them. Stormtiger and Cricket escaped, Cricket’s injuries seemed fully healed. We can probably expect increased Empire activity in response, once they answer Coil’s insult.”

Armsmaster went on with the briefing, and I found myself surprisingly focused: it was interesting to see the connections between things, the factions shifting balance. Tattletale’s team even got a mention: they had been active for far longer than my research on PHO indicated, at least six months at this point, but they had always been fairly low-profile until recently when they hit a payday loan business and were intercepted by police, eventually making away with tens of thousands and some media coverage.

The media was calling them ‘the Undersiders’. I wondered who had chosen that name.

“A brush-up on their known powers is also available in your briefing emails for later,” Armsmaster said, a wrapping-up tone in his voice. “That’s all I have for this week. Does anyone have an issue to raise or something to add?”

Aegis raised his hand. “What’s happening with Rune? The last teenaged parahuman we caught wound up on the team.”

Armsmaster’s mouth thinned at the mention of Shadow Stalker; not well-liked by anyone, apparently. “She’s a villain, so that obviously can’t happen here. She’s been given representation both by a public defender and the Youth Guard, and after being informed of her options has chosen juvenile detention out of state.”

“What were her other choices?” I asked. How many options did they give to villains?

“Joining another Wards team on the West coast, with restrictions,” Armsmaster replied.

I wondered who came up with that idea, and if it ever actually worked at reforming anyone.

“If there’s nothing else?” A pause. “Then that brings me up to assignments for the week. Patrol schedules have been automatically generated and posted, please remember  _ not to print them out _ ,” Armsmaster sent a withering look at Velocity, who became instantly interested in the ceiling, “The assignments have been optimized for power synergy so, as always, there will be no trading shifts without a very good reason. Aegis, the schedule you submitted was approved.

“Lastly, Rune’s prisoner transport will be departing tomorrow night. Some of the Wards will be covering the usual Protectorate patrol to free up Miss Militia and Dauntless as escorts.”

He stopped; the mood around the table had turned grimly resigned. “I expect a full assault by Empire Eighty-Eight, something to gain back the losses they faced this week. I also fully expect that we’ll be able to repel them and maybe take some of them in. Dragon has a Birdcage transport with Hookwolf’s name on it.”


	11. Lich 2.5

I argued with myself through all of Saturday, through the patrol I ran with Gallant and the event in the PRT lobby where the civilians got to meet the heroes; not even that could distract me.

I wanted to be on the escort team for Rune’s transport; I was  _ going  _ to be on it, one way or another. The question I debated was whether to ask for forgiveness or permission.

On one hand: they liked to keep a tight leash on the Wards, and they so far hadn’t shown a willingness to admit that my safety wasn’t an issue.

On the other: Armsmaster and Piggot both seemed reasonable. Piggot had taken care of Shadow Stalker after one report, and Armsmaster was pragmatic. I was literally the least at-risk person in any room; they had no reason to say no.

I could ask permission, but if denied the repercussions after would probably be worse.

I could not ask at all, and still have a guaranteed punishment even if everything went perfectly.

“Aegis,” I called out across the gym.

He was in a corner, lifting some unholy amount of weight with a robotic arm spotting for him.

He grunted, handed the bar up to the robot, and sat up. “Sup? How’d you like the PR event, by the way?”

“Boring,” was all I had to comment. I’d been too distracted to interact much. “If I asked to be on the escort team tomorrow night, do you think they’d let me?”

His head tipped from side to side as he considered it. “Maybe. I know Armsmaster already requested Vista and Clockblocker, Piggot’s working over PR and the Guard to try to make it happen.”

I waited for that flash of jealousy to pass. “Okay, I’ll go see if she can put my name on the list.”

It was only when I was standing outside her office that I realized normal people didn’t work on weekends, and she probably wasn’t in there. Then the intercom next to the door said, “Stop standing around, Lazarus.”

I opened the door. “Sorry, Director. I wanted to ask if I could be on the escort tomorrow.”

She sighed heavily and folded her hands on her desk, leaning back in her chair; her whole posture dared me to argue with her. “Why?”

Sudden, irrational anger burned in my chest, that she wanted me to beg for it before she said no, that she wanted proof that I could contribute but wouldn’t give me the opportunity to show her. It was the same as always and I was a fool for thinking it might be different.

“I can fight and I don’t die.” I said shortly, trying not to let my boiling frustration show. I had had arguments when I walked in, but they were all up in smoke now. “So if you’re letting the other two go, you have no reason to keep me behind.”

“You don’t die, true,” she admitted with a small nod. “But you have pissed off the Empire, enough that they sent a sniper after you. In fact, you nearly got  _ Clockblocker  _ killed - or did you think he was the intended target? All they saw was a hero flying with your minion.”

I didn’t - couldn’t - respond to that before she continued, “And because you’ve pissed them off, that makes you a target, someone to be an example. If they capture you, what would happen, Lazarus?”

_ They can’t hold me. Nothing can hold me. _

I couldn’t say that, either. She’d demand to know why, where the certainty came from, and I couldn’t explain it because I didn’t know.

Her eyes narrowed. “Overconfidence kills, Lazarus. Faster than almost anything else. If you walk into a situation thinking you’ve got it figured out and you  _ don’t, _ you will not be walking out of it.”

“But I will,” I said. “Which is my point. I’m the only one who  _ is  _ guaranteed to walk out.”

“Then your attitude is going to get _other_ people killed,” she snapped.

I took a deep breath and pushed my anger away; it had probably already ruined any chance I had, and it wasn’t helping. It just felt good.

“Thanks for hearing me out,” I said, shifting back on my heels. Looked like I'd be doing this without permission after all. “Have a good evening.”

“One thousand words,” Piggot said. I locked eyes with her again. “On my desk by tomorrow morning, I want one thousand words from you about the dangers you and your teammates still face beyond your own immortality. If I like it, you can go.”

I thought about it; after a moment I began to smile because I understood.

“You’ll have it,” I promised.

I’m learning more and more that sometimes people will  _ ask  _ you to lie to them.

* * *

“I see them,” I announced.

Immediately the quiet murmuring conversation in the truck was silenced. The radio in the front crackled and Dauntless reported, “I have eyes on our ambush.”

Coryn, a little ahead of him, circled higher in the air. The sheer cliff the truck was passing limited half the field; the steep drop on the other side limited much of the other half. You couldn’t go up, and you wouldn’t want to go down.

The transport was a huge armored car, resembling a garbage truck at first glance; that was on purpose, urban camouflage for moving through the Bay without announcing that the PRT was moving a prisoner. In the back was Rune, bound and sullenly silent, Clockblocker, Battery, Triumph, four PRT troopers, and myself.

Armsmaster, Miss Militia, and Assault were on motorcycles ahead and behind the transport, Velocity on the ground running as a scout, and Dauntless in the air with Coryn above us. We expected a fight, and we weren’t trying to hide it.

“Vista’s gonna be soooo pissed she missed this,” Clockblocker breathed, one knee bouncing nervously.

The radio fuzzed in with “Hookwolf!” and then the truck hit something.

I’d seen through Coryn as Hookwolf came barreling down the steep cliff, launching himself onto the front of the truck. He was followed by Crusader floating in the air, Fenja and Menja appearing and growing rapidly from the underbrush on the decline.

Battery and the PRT troopers were out of the back in a blink, Battery’s costume lighting up. Triumph took a second to look back at Clockblocker and me. “Just remember the plan, alright? Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Stupid is my whole brand though,” Clockblocker complained.

“I’ll keep him in line,” I promised.

Outside, the Empire’s reinforcements were pulling up on off-road ATVs, rumbling engines and bright floodlights casting confusion through an already narrow battlefield. I knew one of them must be Kaiser when metal blades grew out of the bottom of the transport truck and lifted it off the ground.

Shouting; pressure-spray as the troopers shot confoam at Hookwolf, who ignored them as he slammed into Dauntless. Most of the foam wiped off on the underbrush as they crashed away, Dauntless wrestling to get his floating boots under him or his lance into a position to hit Hookwolf.

Miss Militia was ducked between the transport and the cliff face, shooting some sort of grenade at Alabaster as he shot back at her; her grenades were expanding into a tangling net at the end of their arc, so I assumed she was trying to hinder him.

Velocity and Battery were teaming up to take care of the unpowered thugs the Empire had brought along, Velocity disarming and dodging bullets. Assault and Triumph were just steps away, occupying both Krieg and Crusader: Triumph’s roars doing something against Crusader’s ghosts, and Assault’s power clashing weirdly with Krieg’s.

Armsmaster, I saw, was in trouble. It was just numbers, and they had more of them. He was facing Fenja and Menja almost alone, only the occasional shot from Miss Militia or Dauntless’ lance to distract them. That was where I sent Coryn.

She bowled into the middle of Fenja’s back in a flying tackle, immediately uncurling to latch on with her claws and talons. They sank in with a strange resistance, and didn’t bleed much.

Coryn tore at her back, dodging Fenja’s attempts to scrape her off with her spear, until Menja got one hand around her wing and tried to pull her off. I disintegrated and reformed the wing, losing the paint and causing Menja to jerk off-balance as her handhold suddenly vanished.

Physical damage wasn’t working, not fast enough: Hookwolf was howling like an animal and Dauntless’ lance hadn’t glowed in a long time. I needed another avenue.

Coryn pulled off, leaving Fenja to cry out and hunch over, her back a mess of bleeding flesh. Her wings unfurled and she swung around, straight at Fenja’s face - and down her throat.

_ One mississippi, two mississippi, _ I started counting. I know exactly how long it takes to pass out from lack of oxygen; I hoped that Fenja’s size wouldn’t make too much of a difference.

It only took about a quarter of Coryn’s Dust to choke Fenja, another quarter flying as a formless swirling cloud to Menja. Coryn’s costume was gone, the cloth discarded on the ground and the paint swirled through thousands of particles of Dust; to me the cloud was dense black with electric blue flashes, but to them it would be a thin blue haze.

The other half reformed into Coryn-but-smaller and went for Hookwolf, slamming him off his collision course with Armsmaster. I shed her arms’ usual shape in favor of something more like a praying mantis, powerful forearms armed with the sharpest Dust blades I could make.

“Shit,” Clockblocker said next to me, and reached out and tapped Rune with his power just as she began to shout. “C’mon, let’s go.”

I knew what he’d seen, because my few sensors had seen them coming: Victor and Othala were at the open back of the truck, Victor with a huge pistol raised and pointed at us. Othala also had a gun, smaller and only half-raised.

This was still part of the plan: Armsmaster knew that they’d try to flank and pull Rune out from under us. Clockblocker was here to delay them as long as possible and then get us out safe; I was here because my human body was useless anywhere else.

I didn’t agree with Armsmaster’s plan, and I didn’t think he liked it much either; bureaucracy tied his hands, made him pull us out of danger faster than we really needed to.

“Just go,” I told him, instead of following him to the front of the truck. I stood up. “I’ll take care of this.”

“Your minion is out there, all you can do is die,” Clockblocker hissed.

“Listen to your friend, Lazarus,” Victor said. “I can’t imagine dying is very fun, and you can’t do anything to me.”

“Freeze your costume or go, Clockblocker!” I ordered, raising my voice. I didn’t take my eyes off of Victor’s trigger finger.

He chose to leave, shooting one last glance at Victor before he ducked through the narrow passage to the front of the truck and slammed the door behind him. The Dust I’d had over him like a protective shell came off and swirled into my hand. It probably wouldn’t have stopped a bullet, but it had made me feel better.

“You already almost killed him once,” I said. “Our costumes look nothing alike. Did you really think that was me flying with my minion, or did you just not care?”

“Bad scope,” he shrugged, like it was no big deal. “Night vision, you know how it is… but you don’t.” He laughed. “There’s really nothing special about you, is there? You don’t even have any skills worth stealing, unless I want to acquire a talent for self-delusion.”

I didn’t smile, although I wanted to; he’d be able to see it since my mask only covered the top half of my face. My ability to push thoughts and emotions into my Dust was coming in handy every day.

I was done talking, and letting them stall out Clockblocker’s timer on Rune. I took a step forward, and he shot me.

Chest shot, missed the heart at first until he emptied the clip into me. It hurt like being stabbed and crushed at the same time, and I could feel some latent mortal instinct panicking that my heart wasn’t beating; it didn’t matter. I moved the Dust in my blood and kept it pumping oxygen from my lungs to my brain, while more Dust reformed the destroyed veins and stopped the bleeding.

I took another step forward.

Victor’s eyes widened behind his mask, surprised, and the confident smile dropped right off his face. Othala touched his back, bringing him out of his shock and apparently giving him pyrokinesis at the same time: he threw a handful of fire at me, then held out his palms in front of himself and loosed a stream of fire like a flamethrower.

The heat washing over me was incredible, bringing back memories of one of my least-favorite deaths and the smell of gasoline. My fire-resistant costume shrugged off the worst of the spray, but I felt my face blistering and my hair burning.

I ran the last two paces between us, throwing myself at him sword-first. The fire cut out, and my sword only sank into his gut an inch before he became completely invulnerable.

“How, the fuck,” he grunted, kicking me off of him.

“I live and learn,” I gasped, pushing my blood faster -  _ have to remember to account for when the heartbeat should have increased _ . Darkness had gathered at the edge of my vision, black spots as my brain starved of oxygen, his fire had burned the air before I could breathe it. I muscled through. “Got no other choice.”

I let go of my sword and tackled him again, latching on like a limpet: not terribly effective at causing damage, but plenty of a distraction while my Dust finished choking Othala out.

“Thala!” he shouted, beating down with both fists on my back. He grabbed me by the hair to pull me off, his invulnerability letting him ignore the pointed spikes of Dust I had woven into it.

I closed my eyes and blocked out information coming from my body, focusing on the Dust. I felt the moment Othala fell as a stutter in her pulse, and my body smiled.

Then Cricket hopped into the truck. “Let’s go!” she shouted.

Outside, things were not going well for the Empire anymore. Armsmaster had tagged Fenja and Menja when they collapsed and shrank, with tranquilizers and then portable cages. Coryn had stuck her diminished self entirely down Hookwolf’s throat and shredded him from the inside out, where apparently there were some non-metal pieces of him stored; he was human again, unconscious and missing the lower half of his body.

Clockblocker had joined the fight - against his orders, which had been to stay behind the troopers once we ceded the transport truck. He’d tagged Hookwolf with his power, pausing his blood loss, and somehow talked Assault into punting him at Alabaster while the villain was busy with Miss Militia. Alabaster was frozen in a comical expression of surprise, but Clockblocker was right next to him having frozen his suit in defense before Stormtiger could tear him apart.

We weren’t without casualties; Crusader had put a spear through Battery’s thigh between her recharges, while Coryn was busy with Hookwolf. Kaiser had turned the mountainside into a minefield, iron blades speared up in clusters everywhere. I think he had been trying to control the battlefield in his people’s favor, but Assault kept smashing down every wall he could find and then throwing the metal at Kaiser.

Dauntless was down, hit hard by Hookwolf and Krieg, then pinned through the gut by Kaiser; I wasn’t sure whether he was still breathing, and I didn’t have the Dust to spare to clot his wounds. Miss Militia had Alabaster covered in confoam from the waist down, but she was bleeding from a head wound she’d taken from Crusader in the process. Krieg was still up and fighting to hold Armsmaster and Triumph back from the Empire’s position: they were grouped up to retreat.

Only Kaiser, Stormtiger, Krieg, and Crusader left outside, versus Armsmaster, Triumph, Assault, Velocity, and Coryn. In the transport, Rune, Victor, and Cricket. And me.

“Jesus fuck kid, just lay down and die,” Cricket said, and swung her kama to cut off my head.

No bluffing my way through that; I died. The Dust began to seep into the world, forming its ribbons.

I hoped that this wouldn’t kill me, but I didn’t have any other choice. I took control of the sudden influx of Dust and formed Nyroc.

Outside, Coryn tore apart Crusader’s ghosts as fast as he made them, dove in front of one of Stormtiger’s explosive blasts for Triumph. Kaiser speared through her wing with one of his blades, and she reformed around it. Armsmaster lined up a shot along his halberd; with a tiny, unheard noise, the tranq dart stuck into Stormtiger’s neck.

_ “The little bitch’ll be coming back, Hook said it only took about thirty seconds last time."  _ Victor said.  _ “Get Rune, I’ve got Othala.”  _ He picked her up and jumped out of the transport, ducking immediately around the side.

Rune was still frozen, but with the worst timing: as Cricket approached, she burst into motion shouting, _ “ - time!”  _ She looked around, confused.  _ “Ah, shit. That’s a lot of blood. Someone get this shit off me.”  _ She was holding up her restraints, special boxing-glove-like cuffs that covered her hands entirely and kept them closed into fists. They were complicated and skin-tight, not easily removed.

_ “No time,”  _ Cricket said. _ “Let’s go.”  _ Her kama cut through the metal chains as easily as they had my neck.

I watched their interplay dispassionately, the words meaningless as if heard from underwater. There was no point in listening; nothing they had to say that I had to hear. Options presented themselves to me, none so attractive as the chance to take off their heads like they’d taken mine.

But I knew I had to hold back, had to remind myself that cutting off their heads would kill them and I didn’t want that. Death is permanent for everyone else, not a decision to be made lightly in the heat of the moment.

I struck out with one of Nyroc’s arms, reformed into a cutting edge. I was aiming to slice off Cricket’s hand at the wrist, but she sensed something and dodged at the last second, leaving Nyroc’s arm to plunge into the textured metal floor. I pulled back up, facing Cricket fully.

She halfway turned her head and said something to Rune, who backed up to get behind her; I was still blocking their escape, since Clockblocker had closed off the front of the truck. I wasn’t sure how she was seeing me until I realized the noise and the pressure must be some kind of echolocation - Cricket, aptly named.

She struck out with her kama, and I let them phase straight through Nyroc. She couldn’t damage my Dust in any way that mattered, but could I land a hit on her? Nyroc was only half the size of Coryn’s usual shape, and Coryn herself was still outside with the others.

She still needed to breath, though.

Cricket looked confused for a moment when Nyroc dispersed, and then terror widened her eyes when she felt the Dust trickling down her throat. Her mouth clamped shut, but she couldn’t seal off her nose and my Dust was too small to be kept out.

I released control of all but the little amount I was using on her, hoping that it would return to resurrecting me.

Cricket made a strange noise with her mouth and leaped over my body, sprinting out of the truck and straight down the mountainside. I’m not sure what made her decide that was the way to go, or if panic made the decision for her. She stumbled on something in the dark and went careening uncontrolled down the slope.

My Dust reformed into ribbons the moment I let it, and resumed its work wrapping me up. The last few pieces of it connected to my head and dragged it over to my neck. After a moment to get adjusted, I stood up.

Rune was watching me warily, her fists up in front of her face like a boxer. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she asked, sneering angrily.

I tilted my newly-attached head to one side. “What do you mean?”

Outside, Armsmaster held up his hand to call off Assault when he would have pursued the remnants of the Empire. I started to collect Coryn’s painted Dust and put it back into something resembling a costume, so that the others could see her.

“You were fucking dead!” she shouted. “And why the fuck are you all fighting to keep me? What do you think is gonna happen, huh? Think they’re just gonna let this slide? You know Kaiser will keep coming, he won’t let this stand. You should have just let me go.”

I shrugged. “He can do what he wants, and I’ll do what I need to.”

Armsmaster limped around the corner of the truck, coming into view of the interior. He saw me standing in front of Rune, very bloody and little singed but both alive.

After a pause, he asked, “Everything go alright in here?”

“Cricket ran off the side of the road,” I told him. “Don’t know if you saw.”

“Uh huh,” he said. “Any injuries?”

“No lasting ones.”

Another pause. I wondered what he was using the time for. “Good work, Lazarus.”

Clockblocker dashed around the corner, coming to a skidding halt when he saw us. He glanced around, and then his head moved in a way I recognized; he was using his rewind power.

“Clock, get to freezing anyone who isn’t stable. Our backup transport is still ten minutes out. Dauntless first, then Hookwolf.” Armsmaster turned and started toward Fenja and Menja’s cages.

Clockblocker shook himself out of it and chirped, “Yes sir.” On his way out, he turned and shot finger-guns at me. “Hey, way to keep your head in that fight, Laz.”

I had Coryn shove him out the door.


	12. Lich 2.6

I couldn’t help the nervous flutter in my stomach, but I could push the emotion itself away to let me think clearly. It was never a good thing to be singled out, but I couldn’t think of anything I’d done that was bad - aside from disobeying the plan, and I _thought_ Armsmaster and I had been on the same page there.

I knocked on the door to his lab, taking a calming breath and clearing my mind. Whatever he wanted, whatever happened, I would survive. Nothing could touch me.

The door swished open, receding into the wall, and I poked my head through. “You wanted to see me, Armsmaster?”

Armsmaster’s lab was neat but full, spare halberds and other weaponry on the left wall, three sets of armor assembled on standing mannequins behind plate glass set into the right one, and the back was taken up entirely with industrial-type shelving, packed with neatly-labeled bins and drawers. In the middle of the floor was a U-shaped table with extending legs to allow it to rise or lower itself depending on whether the person using it wanted to sit in the chair in the center, or stand.

The man himself was seated at a desk partially set into the same wall the door was on, in civilian clothes but with his helmet on. As he stood and faced me, the desk pulled itself back into the wall and a panel came down to cover it, leaving no trace that there was a computer there at all.

“Lazarus,” he nodded. “I wanted to talk to you about Sunday night.”

“I figured.” When I’d gotten the email this morning, it had been difficult to convince myself to go to school as normal instead of just coming right to PHQ. I was finally in the internship program, so at least I got out at lunch instead of suffering through the whole day. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” he walked around his table to the center of it, set his phone down and tapped on the surface. The whole thing lit up with a faint glow, and then one section of the floor in front of the table rose up into a straight-backed chair. “Please, sit. I was allowing you some time to adjust, but you’ve been with us for about two weeks now and you seem to be settling in okay. I’d like to study your resurrection process and your minion more closely, specifically this invisible black matter you call Dust.”

I sat at the same time he did, putting my backpack on the floor next to the chair, and he removed his helmet. Coryn crouched next to me, her position loosely defined by just the cloth part of her costume.

I tried to parse what he was saying. He’d been wanting to study my Dust for a while, but was letting me get used to the Wards and being a hero first. Something had changed his mind and sped up his schedule.

“What did I do?” I asked.

His eyebrows went up, faintly surprised. “Do you know what a Manton limit is?”

I did, because it was glossed over in school and training and Vista had explained it more when talking about her powers. “Keeps telekinetics from squeezing your heart in your chest, or causing brain aneurysms.” After a moment, I got it. “But my power isn’t really telekinesis.”

“It has similar effects, force over distance applied invisibly. There are telekinetics who would kill to have the power to choke people from afar like you did, and I’m sure that isn’t the limit of your Dust. I reviewed the camera footage from inside the transport truck.”

I guessed he wanted me to tell him how I stayed standing with my chest blown open.

“When Clockblocker got shot, I tried my best to stop the bleeding but there wasn’t a lot I could do. If his heart had been hit, I couldn’t do anything about that, and I think it got one of his lungs.” I explained. Sometimes I heard the rattle of his breath in my head, when everything else was quiet. 

“So I figured, I could keep that from happening again by making it so the blood flows without a heartbeat.” I put my arm on the table and pulled up the sleeve, showing him the pristine skin on the inside of my forearm. “Before our mission, I cut into the bloodstream here and put in as much Dust as I could without clogging my own circulation - got that wrong a few times, do not recommend heart attacks as a form of death. Hurts like a - lot.” I changed wording right before saying _like a bitch_ to my favorite hero. “Then when Victor shot me in the chest, I could just move the Dust and keep my blood going. That also gives me a sense of where the bleeding is, so I can cover it pretty much instantly, like forming artificial veins where the walls are Dust.”

Armsmaster - Colin? He didn’t have the helmet on, but I didn’t feel comfortable thinking of him as that - nodded along as I explained. “And do you think you would be able to do the same to someone else? Put Dust in their bloodstream?”

“With an open wound? Easily,” and then I hurried to add, “Uh - not that I would.”

“Really? Clockblocker told us you were trying to staunch his wounds with Dust when he was shot.”

“Well, yeah, to save him. Not to give him a heart attack.”

“Exactly.” he seemed satisfied by that answer. I thought I might have lost the point of this conversation a little. “You bypass the Manton limit in a unique way because of the matter you create and control. How long would you be able to keep someone alive in the absence of a heartbeat?”

I stared up at the ceiling as I thought about it. “I’m not sure. When I was experimenting, the thing that kept killing me was the heart attacks when I got it wrong. When I had it right, I had Coryn take out my heart and I kept going for a while. Um, I think shock would eventually be a problem. It doesn’t really affect me anymore, but the first few times I did stuff with physical trauma it hit hard. And I _think_ I can keep the lungs breathing by pushing on the diaphragm with Dust, but I’m not sure for how long. I haven’t tested it, I wasn’t sure how to stop myself from breathing automatically.”

Armsmaster leaned forward. “Do you want to? I have access to paralytics that can stop respiration.”

I began to grin. _Finally_ someone who understood the need to experiment, learn your limits, and move past them. “Sure.”

* * *

“How was your thing with Armsmaster today?” Dennis asked, vaulting the back of the sofa and dropping onto the cushions. “Can’t believe you’re getting to miss the stupid after-school lessons.”

I rolled my head to the side, shooting him a look. “I am technically dying a lot during them. I could be getting traumatized. Shouldn’t you be in costume?”

“Nah, you _like_ dying.” He flapped one hand toward the cluster of screens. “And I’m on Console today, no point in getting all dressed up with nowhere to go.”

“Emergency call?” I suggested, giving the reason that I’d been given for why even the person on Console needed to be in costume. “It’s not like we have a ton of prisoners in the cells or anything, just waiting to be busted out.”

He blew a raspberry and picked up the remote, switching away from the news program I had on. The broadcaster had been talking about the capture of nearly half the Empire’s capes, her expression solemn as she predicted doom to follow.

Fenja, Menja, Alabaster, Hookwolf, and of course Rune had been shipped out. Half of the Empire’s biggest hitters, and Armsmaster had told me that Purity was claiming she’d split off from the gang a while ago to take on a solo ‘vigilante’ career. After her no-show for the biggest Empire showdown of the year, he was starting to take her seriously.

It wasn’t all good; the Empire still had connections to Gesellschaft, who might send reinforcements, and with what capes they had left they’d be fighting harder than ever. They wouldn’t pull punches, and they would probably enforce their dominance somewhere else soon to regain some face.

I got up from the couch and looked around for Vista, my patrol partner tonight. It was nearing the time to start patrols, and I knew she liked to go early. Aegis caught my eye instead, jerking his head over toward the little kitchenette.

I followed him, wondering what he could want that he hadn’t said when we greeted each other earlier.

“Hey, careful with Vista tonight,” Aegis’ voice was pitched low, not wanting to be overheard. 

I responded in kind, a little hurt that he didn’t trust me. “What do you mean? I always watch out for you guys.”

He shook his head. “No, not like that…. She’s really pissed her parents didn’t let her go with you guys on Sunday, and when she gets pissed because people hold her back she can get a little reckless. Just, if you see a situation you’re not sure of, don’t let her make the decision for you because you think she’s more experienced. She _is_ , but she might not be thinking clearly. She had Console on Monday and she’s been with me the last two shifts, but I think she’s starting to get suspicious. I had to trade with Gallant for Wednesday.”

I felt a little offended on Vista’s behalf, because she’d always seemed very level-headed to me - at least any time she wasn’t around Dean. She thought the sun shined out of his ass and I didn’t agree with that, but I’d found her judgement solid on everything else.

Still, Aegis had known her longer. He might know what he was talking about. “I’ll keep an eye on her. We’ve got Console, too.”

Aegis’ eyes flicked between Dennis and me, wide and meaningful.

“Yeah, alright, but the processing is automatic and it lights up red or green. Even Dennis should be able to relay that information.”

I’d spoken too loud. “Hey!” Dennis called out. “I’m colorblind, I’ll have you know!”

Both Aegis and I turned on him.

“What, really?” I asked.

“Dennis, you’re kidding, right?” Aegis demanded.

He shrugged, still watching cartoons on the television. “I ain’t saying, so I guess you’ll never know, judgy. Serve you right if I am.”

Aegis glared at him some more, and then looked back at me as if for reassurance. “We’d know, right? They’d tell us that kind of thing. It would be in his file…. I’ve never read his file. How do we get his file?”

I patted Aegis on the shoulder. “I will steal you his personnel file.”

“Wait, no, you actually would. Lazarus… Lazarus!”

I had spotted Vista coming in from the locker rooms and kept walking away, waving back at him.

I dodged Gallant, who was walking into the room blindly while staring down at his phone, costume on but helmet tucked under one arm. 

He flinched and glanced up, throwing me an apologetic smile, then turned toward Dennis and Aegis. “Hey, Clock wanna trade shifts? I’ll take your Console.”

“Yes!” Aegis said, both hands on his helmet in exasperation. He’d been arguing with Dennis again.

“Sure!” Dennis exclaimed, throwing down the remote and climbing over the back of the sofa. He started for the hallway to the boys’ locker room.

“Thanks, I’ve got this thing, Vicky’s been - ”

Dennis reached out and put his finger over Gallant’s mouth as he passed; Gallant’s head drew back like a turtle retreating into its shell, his nose wrinkling up. “Shhh, I don’t care. I just don’t want to be on Console.”

“Thank you,” Aegis added fervently.

“You know that means _you’re_ on patrol with him, right?” Vista asked, looking between Gallant and Aegis.

“...Shit.”

* * *

Vista and I strolled up and down Lord Street Market for an hour, forbidden from deviating off to side-streets. A van full of PRT troopers was parked at the North end of our route, another at the South; they were on high alert for pushback from the Empire.

“What’d Clockblocker do when you told him to bail?” Vista asked. “‘Cuz I’m imagining he didn’t take it well.”

“To be honest I was afraid he’d try to stick around, pull the whole _I’m a guy, I have to protect you_ bullshit,” I waved my hand in front of us, indicating that whole flawed concept and snorted.

“Ha! I beat most of that out of the boys, you’re welcome.”

“Yeah, he eventually realized that sticking around would just give them someone to use against me. Did he tell you what he did to Alabaster?”

Vista crowed with laughter. “Only like six times! Him and Assault have to work together more often, together they could call themselves a Blaster rating.”

“Just have Assault throw him around, right? And then if he gets in trouble Clock just freezes his costume, problem solved, or at least delayed.”

“What about you, though? How’d you face down Victor without Coryn? Didn’t he, y’know….” Vista put one finger out and mimed a gun between us, where the civilians wouldn’t see it.

I was explaining my new ability to delay death - and the Dust knife I was thinking might have to make a part of my regular kit - when Gallant’s voice crackled through our comms.

“Vista, Lazarus, report back to base ASAP. Take one of the trooper transports, you’re closer to the North one right now.”

Vista and I looked at each other, although we couldn’t exchange a real speaking look with the masks in the way.

“What’s going on?” I asked, setting off at a light jog. Vista kept pace beside me easily despite her shorter legs; I still wasn’t in great shape, although I knew I’d improved a lot.

“Don’t know,” Gallant replied. “Piggot just had me pull you back. Maybe something going down somewhere else and they want backup on standby.”

“She there now?” Vista asked.

The PRT van was in sight, already idling with the side door open to receive us. I wondered what the rush was.

“...Yeah, but she’s on a call with someone else. See you guys when you get here.”

The troopers didn’t have any more information when Vista and I questioned them, so we settled in to wait out the drive in silence. Vista, I’d noted, didn’t like to talk in front of adults unless it was as a hero. She worked hard to seem like just a very short adult.

I sent sensors down through the air exchange into the Ward base as soon as it was within my range, about two blocks away. Right away I found Gallant and Piggot in the main room, along with Aegis and Clockblocker back from their own patrol. Kid Win, out paired up with Velocity tonight, wasn’t there but might still be on his way. By the entrance was another squad of PRT troopers in full gear.

Aegis was talking to Piggot, his voice pitched low, while Gallant watched the Console screens with too much concentration. Clockblocker was what really caught my attention: he was standing alone, leaning against one wall facing away from everybody with the bottom half of his mask in his hands, his mouth moving.

I sent a sensor in closer, resolving not to tell him I’d spied on him talking to himself. “ - dad. Laz, if you’re listening, the Empire knows your name, they went to your house and took your dad and outed you. They said they want to trade for your dad. Laz, if you’re listening, the Empire knows your name….”

In the van, my body’s eyes slid shut.

* * *

The PRT would never let me trade myself for my dad.

Vista and the troopers with us probably didn’t know yet, and that was on purpose. Gallant _did_ know, because he was watching the PRT troopers clear my house on the Console. Aegis was arguing with Piggot over what to do with me.

Piggot wanted to lock me up to keep me from doing anything stupid.

All of this came to me at the same time, along with the exact position and movement of every speck of Dust in my range - but that was always there in the back of my mind.

In the second moment after I heard Clockblocker’s message, only one thing filtered through:

I couldn’t stay here in this truck and let them drive me into a cage.

I felt some emotion battering on the door to my consciousness, something big and unimportant. I pushed it and everything else away, focusing on what I needed to do right here and now.

The troopers would have orders not to stop and not to let either of us get out, so asking nicely wouldn’t do it. Any action I took would need to be sudden and finished quickly, before they could react to pin down my human body with containment foam.

I pulled back all but one sensor from the base. The one I left behind was already next to Clockblocker, who had repeated his message again; I broke some of the Dust off the sensor and used it to cover his mouth. He stopped whispering immediately and sighed.

“Got the message?” he asked.

 _TY_ , I wrote in Dust on his cheek.

“Good luck. I’m sorry.”

I pulled back the last bit of my Dust and opened my eyes in the PRT van. Vista’s visor was turned toward me.

I couldn’t ask her to help me, but she probably wouldn’t stop me either. 

The van was set up with benches lining the sides in the back, enough room to squish three people on each bench. Past the benches were two sliding doors, one on each side, and two separated seats in front of those - where Vista and I were sitting. Up front were the usual driver and shotgun positions, with an open aisle between them to get to the back.

Coryn had been following from above us, but I’d brought her in close and now I dropped her costume to let her Dust filter into the van. Inside, she reformed invisibly right next to the driver and reached out to press slowly on the brake pedal.

“What the fuck?” I heard the driver say, looking down at his feet. The van was braking fast, everybody leaning with momentum.

“Why’re you stopping?” the trooper in the passenger seat asked.

“I’m not - something’s hitting our brakes!”

Coryn’s unoccupied arm yanked on the emergency brake, sending us to an abrupt lurching stop. The troopers were gripping their guns tightly, on alert, and even Vista had unbuckled in preparation to get up.

She noticed that I wasn’t reacting. “Lazarus? What’s going on?”

I pressed my lips together. Coryn darted out of the front just as the passenger got up and moved into the aisle, and I had her stand up between Vista and me. “When you tell them, ask Gallant why I had to run like this.”

Coryn ripped through the roof of the van, talons rending steel with an unearthly screech. She picked me up and took us both out through the hole, tearing skin off my left arm and hip as we scraped through in my heedless rush. I clotted the wounds with Dust so that we wouldn’t be spattering biohazard all over the street, and looked down. The last thing I saw of the inside was Vista staring up at me.


	13. Lich 2.7

Coryn and I hovered above the PRT van for probably too long, taking a few seconds for me to breath the chilly night air, clear my head, and push down the nausea threatening to bring up my dinner. Coryn flew up higher and paused, breaking my neck to heal my skinned limbs.

_ Focus on the goal. What do I want, and what do I need to do to get it? _

The short time before my resurrection was a few moments of clear thought, and then I landed back in my body.

_ I want my fucking father back. _

I shoved the anger away again. Unhelpful, since anger wouldn’t magically make him appear.

I needed more information first. Dennis had tipped me off, but his message had been necessarily blunt and brief.

We flew up away, hopefully out of range of cameras or witnesses, toward my house. We didn’t have to get close, but I needed to see it for myself.

I slowed down as my house entered the edge of my range, confirming what my sensors had been seeing for the last few minutes: the red and blue lights of police cars framing the ends of my street, the dully threatening orange glow of the PRT’s emergency vehicle lights right in front of my house. The entire yard was lit up with portable floodlights, cordoned off with crime scene tape.  


One of the vans had driven over a corner of the neighbor’s landscaping, and I had the inane thought  _ Mister Charles is gonna have a fit _ .

I shook off the stupor and got to work. Sensors into and around my house, while Coryn set me down two streets away in a vacant lot where I’d once buried a few severed fingers and some teeth. More sensors started searching through the houses around me. Coryn crouched down beside me and together we waited.

My house was open, the front door torn and left hanging on its hinges. The front step, always a risky gamble, was broken through - a petty part of me hoped that whoever broke it had sprained their ankle. I feared that the inside would be like the set of a horror movie, but instead it was almost pristine. Past the entry, they hadn’t encountered any resistance.

The kitchen table was off-center, our three chairs askew and one laying on its side. On the kitchen wall, someone had left a message written in thick black marker.

TRADE, followed by a phone number I didn’t recognize and a twelve-hour time limit. Eight in the morning.

I patted myself down, looking for something to write with, and came up holding my Ward-issued phone.

“Shit,” I whispered, holding it up. I handed it over to Coryn, who flew it over to my house and dropped it on the roof where it slid into the rain gutter. Meanwhile my sensors in the nearby houses had borne fruit: someone was on vacation, leaving an empty house and an unattended computer.

When Coryn got back from her errand, I sent her into the house while I moved deeper into the overgrown bushes in the vacant lot. If they were tracking my phone, and I was sure they were, they’d probably check the place where it had paused for several minutes. I didn’t want to move into an occupied lot and get caught by some nosy neighbors, either.

Coryn pressed one blunted claw to the power button on a desktop computer, beginning its startup with a whir of fans. I scattered more sensors around myself, watching the PRT troopers by my house for a tell-tale burst of activity.

Just as Coryn confirmed that there was no password, the troopers started to mobilize.

My time in this area was up, but the empty house was a street away - on the opposite side of my range from my house. I moved toward her and let my house fall out of range.

Except it didn’t. My control was reaching farther than it ever had before, across three full blocks.

Not important. Coryn’s arms reformed into normal human limbs tipped with dexterous fingers, and she began typing into a search bar.

The links on PHO were getting taken down within ten minutes of posting, but that just made people post them more. All of it led back to a simple webpage, something I could have worked up in HTML in minutes, a dark grey background with white text. At the top of it was my face.

They’d pulled the picture from my recent student photo at Arcadia. My hair fell down over my shoulders and around my face, pulled back behind one ear. I’d had to take off my glasses because of the flash on the lenses, and my eyes looked small and tired, red spots on either side of my nose. I hadn’t smiled.

Next to it was a picture of Coryn and me in costume, on the stage at Glade park. Side-by-side there was little denying that both images had the same hair, the same jawline.

The reason for all of this uproar, the reason for why everybody and their grandmother was sharing this page, was in the text below.

_ Pictured above is the Ward Lazarus and the minion she calls Coryn. We were told that Coryn was a simple Alexandria package minion, capable of flight and super-strength, but they didn’t tell us that the minion is invisible when she chooses. _

_ This information must be spread for the safety of our city, to neutralize a threat the Protectorate and PRT are holding over our all of our heads. You may have heard of the recent capture of several Empire capes, but you have been lied to about how it happened. _

_ The PRT told you that they were captured during a battle in the mountains outside outside Brockton Bay, but that is a lie, a cover-up for what really happened. They were taken at night, from their beds, by strike teams armed with deadly weaponry. The Empire capes resisted, and that’s how Cricket was killed. There was no battle, what reason would the Empire have to be in the mountains? What were they fighting over? It was an unprovoked, unprompted attack… made possible by Lazarus. _

I realized that I had stopped in my tracks in the middle of the sidewalk, and started walking again mechanically. Almost to the empty house.

_ With her invisible minion, she followed the Empire to their homes and their families, gathering this information for her masters. As soon as they got the chance, the PRT and Protectorate leapt at the opportunity to circumvent the law. While Lazarus is allowed to walk around unrestricted, no one who wears a mask can be sure their identity is safe, not rogues or vigilantes or even the heroes. _

_ This information is being provided to you now as a warning, to neuter her threat, and to return the favor. Lazarus’ civilian name is Taylor Hebert, daughter of Daniel Hebert... _

Coryn put her claws through the computer tower and the screen went dark, the fans falling silent. I jumped, realizing suddenly that I’d stopped again. I had been staring at the front of the house Coryn was in, and a red haze had drifted over me. It felt  _ good _ , but I cleared it away. Not yet. Not until I could use it.

The site was anonymous and, I was sure, untraceable. He wouldn’t be so careless, even with as desperate a move as this. Maybe he’d fool some people, or throw just enough doubt to wriggle out of the consequences, but anyone with half a brain knew. 

It was Kaiser, and I was going to make him regret this.

* * *

My finger hovered over the call button on the flip phone. The tiny number in the upper right corner told me that I had ten hours left.

I had just bought it prepaid from the disinterested clerk behind the counter of the gas station, trying to keep my head down the whole time. I probably didn’t need to bother; his eyes had the glazed-over look of the perpetually stoned.

Coryn was perched at the top of the alley, staring down its length. I had other sensors watching every approach, but you couldn’t be too careful. There were a lot of people looking for me right now.

I had the Empire’s number typed into the phone, but I already knew I wasn’t going to press it.

Piggot’s stupid assignment danced in front of my mind’s eye, a list of fates worse than death. It had been simple when it was abstract. Over half the things I’d listed had come with ideas for how to escape, which I hadn’t written down because I knew that wasn’t what she cared about. With enough time, I was sure, I could get out of anything. Pain is temporary, death is temporary. They didn’t know enough about me or my powers to keep me forever.

But they had my  _ dad _ . I couldn’t afford to fuck up. He didn’t get infinite chances.

I had the other Wards’ numbers memorized, an old habit from when I only had a home phone to make calls from. Before I could talk myself out of it, I had punched in Dennis’ personal phone number - not his Ward phone.

The call rang once and went immediately to voicemail. I had pushed away the hurt and started typing in Missy’s number when the text came through.

_ Who is this _

Of course. Everybody prefers texting. I should have sprung for the smartphone, typing on this was annoying.

_ Lazarus _ , I answered, and then regretted it. Should I have been more circumspect? I should at least have called myself Taylor - this was his civilian phone.

Unmasking me had put the others at risk, I realized suddenly. They were my only friends at school, we’d gone out together. One more sin to add to the list Kaiser was racking up.

_ Safe? _

_ 4 now. I need ur help _

_ What do you need _

What I needed was my team. I needed backup, someone to pull my dad out after I turned myself over. I needed more information, and more firepower, and as always, more Dust.

Could I ask him for that, though?

Could I ask any of them?

_ If I came in rn, what wld they do w me? _

The response wasn’t immediate. I put the phone in the pocket of the hoodie I’d stolen from the empty house, and started walking. Eventually, it buzzed.

_ Lock u up. There looking for ur dad & the E88, no luck _

_ Armsy is PISSED _

I wondered if I could get a location from the Empire and arrange for the Protectorate heroes to meet me there. But the Empire would be expecting something like that, and they’d either kill my dad or he wouldn’t even be there.

_ at me or who _

_ Cant tell. He wont talk to ms piggy, MM is go-btw. What do u need? _

I found myself smiling, remembering his stupid Miss Piggy reference. Then I remembered why I shouldn’t be happy, and it wiped all good humor away.

_ Nvm. Thanks. Dont tell them, pls _

The PRT and Piggot especially would never forgive me, or trust me again. I couldn’t drag the others down too.

I closed the phone and put it back in my pocket, next to the mask. It was ten at night, the streets entirely cleared out. I needed to find someplace to settle down, because there was no good reason for a person to be walking around this late, especially not someone my age.

I was supposed to have school in the morning.

I went back to the empty house I’d raided for clothes and computer access, Coryn carrying me most of the distance. When we landed in the fenced backyard I stumbled, exhaustion hitting me hard. I pushed my glasses up and scrubbed at my eyes.

Coryn came up behind me, her claws sharpened. I stabbed deep at the base of my skull, severing the brain stem instantly and almost painlessly. Coryn caught my body before it hit the grass, holding me for the few seconds it took to come back from so little damage. I gathered excess Dust, swirling it into my aura, and stood up on my own feet feeling refreshed.

I had been letting the despair and inaction get to me, and I couldn’t afford the time to wallow. I had made mistakes, Cricket the latest of them. The investigation into her death had been short and easy: she broke her neck in her panic, throwing herself off a mountain to get away from me. It was her own fault, her own reaction that caused it, and I’d been acting in self-defense. 

I didn’t feel guilty; she was a bad person, a murderer who would probably have had a Birdcage sentence in her future. I was sorry, however, that my actions had had a such a permanent consequence - one I hadn’t intended and wouldn’t have chosen. When I’d heard her death pronounced, I’d resolved to be more careful in the future. I could have used my Dust to bind her legs, stop her from running away.

The Empire didn’t deserve my caution.

“I’ll kill them if I have to,” I said to Coryn - myself, really. “I never wanted to hurt anyone who didn’t hurt me first… but this is enough. It ends here.”

And suddenly, my next step laid clear before me.

* * *

 

I’d kept the email from Tattletale.

At first because it was evidence, and later because… well. It seemed like a good thing to have. My bullies had taught me to never say a thing that could be used against me, and that seemed to go hand-in-hand with hoarding anything that might come in useful later on.

I stared, mouth twisted to one side, at the wrecked desktop computer. I glanced at Coryn. “Probably shouldn’t have lost my temper, huh?”

I found an older model laptop in a closet upstairs, stowed away with its charger and a stack of computer keyboards. I took it down and cracked it open on the dining room table, plugging it into a nearby outlet. I drummed my fingers on the table while I waited for it to get a charge and boot up.

Thank god for people who don’t password protect their stuff. The old thing ran slow compared to the desktop, but it was about the same speed as my computer at home. I jacked in the ethernet cable from the desktop - apparently these vacationers had disabled their wifi - and logged into my email account.

I sent the email to the only address I had for her, hoping it wasn’t a temporary account. The subject line said  _ I want to talk to you _ ; the body was blank.

_ What is the etiquette for asking for help from a villain? _ I wondered.

I was afraid that I’d have to wait for hours or longer, and I set a time limit that if I didn’t have an answer within two hours I’d have to figure something else out. Instead, her reply came through only a few minutes later.

_ Phone, or meet in person? _

Fuck. I should have thought ahead.

_ Phone. _

I followed it up with my new number and hit send. I pulled the flip phone out of my pocket, put it on the table and waited, staring at it. The clock on its face reminded me that I had nine hours to call the Empire.

The tiny screen on the front lit up a fraction of a second before it started ringing. I snatched it up and put to my ear, then stopped with my mouth open.

“I’ll help,” Tattletale said. “No cost, no favor needed.”

A moment ago I couldn’t think of a single word, and now I had too many of them crowding for space.  _ Why? Why would you help me? What kind of trap is this? _

“How do you know?” I asked instead. How could she possibly know what they’d done? Was she a part of it?

“I hack the PRT pretty regularly, to keep informed about what’s going on. You kicked over an anthill breaking out like that, it sent up every flag I have in their system.”

“Why would you help me for no cost, though? I would… I would have owed you.” I pay the debts I agree to.

“They broke the rules,” she explained. “I already told you, that’s bad news for  _ everyone _ . They might be able to fool or confuse the general public, but they can’t fool  _ me _ .” She sounded affronted at the thought that they would even try. I was reminded of the superior attitude I’d gotten off her before.

Enough negotiating, I was on a time limit. I took a deep breath. “I need information. You seem like the person to go to.”  
“Oh, hon,” I bristled at the condescension. “You need more than just information, but that  _ is  _ all I can help you with. Unless you’re looking for a more permanent arrangement?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you’re looking for a new team we’ve got an opening here. You agree to join, you’ll get the whole package - and remember, we’re escape artists. We can hit the Empire, get your dad, and run before they sort their ducks from their geese.”

“...That is the weirdest expression I’ve ever heard,” I said, for lack of anything better while my mind whirled. I didn’t need a new team, I had one.

I had a team that probably wouldn’t be allowed to take me back.

“Something my mom used to say. You’re thinking about the Wards right now, wondering if you’ll be able to rejoin them after all of this.”

I pushed away the feeling that was putting a lump in my throat. “Thought you weren’t psychic.”

“It’s not a hard guess to make. Want me to guess what happens to you?”

“I can’t trust anything you say, you’ll lie to get me to join your team. I’m not a villain, you know. I don’t hurt people.”

“Good, neither do we,” she was grinning, I could tell. “At least, we try not to. I’ll tell you anyway.

“Say everything goes well. You go to the Empire, you get your dad back and get away clean. Then you take him to the PRT, the only people who you trust to protect him. Lazarus… Taylor. How many of the Empire would you kill to get your dad back? How many would you maim? Who will see it happen? Who gets away? How many cameras saw you in action? Everybody knows your name, your face. After this, they’ll know your powers and how utterly terrifying it is to have a Master cape who can’t die. You know that, right? In your training, what was the protocol for a Master rating above five?”

“I think that’s classified,” I said mechanically, my mouth almost too dry to talk.

“The protocol is to focus on the Master first. Take out the Master and the minions fall, but they can’t do that to you... I got off track a little but my point is, they can’t afford to take you back. They’ll lean on your goodwill and your father, and they’ll send you someplace far away. A Simurgh containment zone, maybe. Depending on what you do to the Empire to get your dad back, maybe they’ll even try to put you in prison. I doubt they’ll swing for the Birdcage - that would be a hard sell. But you’ll never be a Ward again, Lazarus. They can’t afford to take you back.”

I stood up and started pacing about halfway through her lecture. My free hand was finger-combing my hair, pulling it back from my face as I asked, “What if I went back right now?”

Her tone, which had been confident and passionate, dropped down to almost… gentle. Like someone explaining to a child. I couldn’t even find it in myself to take offense anymore. “They’ll take you back now, of course. You haven’t really done anything yet… aside from a little B and E, and they’ll cover that up.”

I didn’t ask how she knew I’d broken into a house to use their computer; the answer would inevitably be  _ I guessed _ . She continued, “They’ll probably even trust you again someday soon; after all, you did eventually come to your senses and come back to them. But, Taylor… do you think they’ll be able to get your dad back? Knowing what you know about the PRT and their image obsession, how much red tape they tie around everyone’s hands, do you think they’re willing to go far enough?”

_ No _ , I thought. To Tattletale I snapped, “You seem to know so much, you tell me.”

“You already know. It doesn’t matter what I think, only what you do. It’s your decision. What do you  _ want _ , Taylor?”

It was the same thing I’d been saying to myself since Clockblocker’s message. Focus on the goal. What do I need to do to get there, and where do I draw the line?

I took a deep breath, one that felt like it reached all the way down to my stomach, and let it out slowly. My heart beat in my chest, pushing Dust and blood through my body. Coryn came up behind me and wrapped her arms around my neck, her wings over my shoulders like a cloak, her head resting on top of mine.

Tattletale was silent, giving me time to think.

It always comes down to me asking myself  _ what can I live with?  _ Because I know I’m going to have to.

I put the phone back up to my ear. “Your help, not your team. I might not be able to be a Ward again, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to be a villain. Meet me at the Dunkin’ Donuts on Lord Street as soon as you can.”

“Take me about half an hour,” she replied. “Your dad’s alive right now, Taylor, I can just about promise you that. Kaiser would have to be stupid to kill him, and this game he’s playing is  _ reckless  _ and  _ desperate _ , but he’s not stupid.”

My fury roared up again, and again I shoved it away; it wasn’t useful right now. Not until I faced Kaiser again.

“After tonight,” I said, my tone even and unchanging, “He won’t be anything.”


	14. Lich 2.8

I used to come to this place after school with Emma.

After my mother died, her mom would pick us both up from school and take me home. The Dunkin was on the way and I suppose she felt guilty or wanted to bring some small happiness into my life. She’d let me order a donut or another snack, and once had let me try her flavored coffee. Months after the funeral, it had become a habit. She paid, and I never told my dad. I wonder where he thought the wrappers in the garbage were coming from, or if he even noticed. 

I stood across the street, waiting patiently for the light to change despite there being almost no cars, lost in thought and kind of regretting this meeting place. The brightly lit sign mocked me with memories of happier times.

It was open twenty-four hours, though, and it was as close to neutral ground as I could get. I pulled my wallet out of the hoodie pocket and checked my remaining cash: enough for a drink and a donut.

The light changed. I crossed, pulled open the door, and went up to the counter.

The young woman manning the cash register was leaning against it, one elbow propped up while her other hand scrolled through her phone. She glanced up as I approached, then did a double-take at her phone.

I sighed. I’d managed to forget for a while that my face was both public and hot news.

“Hey, aren’t you…?” she began to say.

“Can I get a tea and a glazed donut before you call the media circus?” I asked.

She stood up and slid her phone into a back pocket. “Uh, yeah, hang on… it’s on the house. For heroes. Store policy.” She started tapping at the register.

Might as well take advantage while she still thought I was with the heroes. “Thanks. And, if you could hold off on telling anyone until I leave, that would be great.”

“Um… oh, shit. Hey, what’s going on? This is all pretty crazy, I don’t keep up with cape news all that much. Did you really kill that Empire cape? And capture the other ones?”

“Don’t really want to talk about it,” I told her.

She turned around and started on the tea, then got my donut out while that was going. I started eating as soon as it was in my hand, suddenly ravenous. Resetting could keep me from starving to death, but it didn’t make me feel  _ full _ .

“That’s fine. Um, I won’t tell anyone… but can I get a pic with you? Or else nobody will believe me.”

I didn’t point out how that would be a good thing for me; judging by the way her face was starting to turn red with embarrassment, she had realized.

“I’m not posing,” I said. She  _ was  _ giving me free food.

She beamed at me. “Awesome! Just, stay right there.” She turned her back to me and whipped her phone up, getting both of us in-frame on the front-facing camera. She snapped three pictures rapidly, holding up a peace sign in one of them. Turning back around, she said, “Thanks so much! Here, have a muffin.”

I took my muffin, donut, and tea to a table in the corner and prayed for Tattletale to show up soon.

* * *

 

“That girl behind the counter is just itching to post about you,” Tattletale said as she sat down across from me.

I didn’t look up from the blueberry muffin I was taking apart. I don’t like blueberries, so I had to eat the muffin around them. “I know, I’ve been watching her phone. I stopped her once already, but she thinks she just dropped it and accidentally deleted.”

Tattletale nodded slowly. “That explains it. Do you want to talk first or call the Empire now?”

“I need you for information and maybe, possibly, backup. Mostly I need you to tell me if they’re lying and where my dad is. Can you do that?”

“I’ll do my best, which is very good. Can’t make promises.”

That was as good as I could expect, and more than I’d dared to hope for. I pulled out my phone and stabbed the number into the keypad, every stroke an effort. My gut twisted as I hit  _ call _ and put it on speaker.

Kaiser picked up after three rings. “Taylor, I was beginning to think you weren’t going to call. It seems you do care for your father.”

I’d prepared for this, clearing my mind and pushing all the useless emotions back. “Kaiser. You wanted me, you got me. Let’s trade.”

He clicked his tongue, all casual and superior. It only reminded me that I wanted to rip it out. “So eager, don’t you even want to  _ haggle _ ? It’s not smart to show how much you want something. I’m surprised your masters even let you make the call.”

Tattletale pushed a pad of paper across the table. On it she’d scribbled quickly,  _ he wntd to trd his ppl 4 dad maybe _ .

So his opening maneuver had been a bluff?

Of course, it made sense. Why would he want  _ me _ ? Even if he made an example of me, he’d be hurting a Ward. He’d bring the whole Protectorate down on himself, more so than the rest of this stunt.

I said to Kaiser, “He’s my dad, I’m not going to pretend he means nothing to me. I’m not a fucking psychopath. Do you want to trade or not?”

I didn’t mention that I’d left the heroes behind. You never have to try to take back something you didn’t say.

“Captain’s Hill, an hour from now. Don’t bring any friends, or your father will find himself with rather more than the recommended amount of lead in his body. Make sure your little minion is visible.”

Kaiser hung up; the whole thing had taken less than a minute.

I flipped the phone closed and moved it back to my pocket. “You get anything from that?”

Tattletale’s brows were drawn together in thought. “He’ll bring your dad to the Hill, but he’ll keep him in a car or some kind of transport ready to get away fast, since that’s his only bargaining chip. I think he had two plans, one for if you agreed to trade some prisoners for your dad and another for if you agreed to trade yourself. The Empire has connections to Gesellschaft, who it’s rumored are able to artificially trigger capes or force a trigger, and then brainwash the parahumans.”

I suppressed an incredulous laugh. “You think he wants to hand me over to some European Nazis to  _ brainwash _ ?”

“Hey, it could happen,” she defended. “If they knocked you out… no, your power works when you’re asleep, doesn’t it? Damn, you won some kind of lottery.”

“They’re probably making the same assumption,” I agreed.

“What about if they drugged you up? Made you loopy?”

I shrugged. “Just reset myself. Clears out whatever’s in my system, it worked on an infection so I assume it would work on drugs.”

Her mouth twisted as she thought. “Teleportation cape. Gets you instantly across the ocean.”

“I start hurting people until they agree to bring me back.”

“They teleport you into a metal box, though.”

“Coryn rips us both out,  _ then  _ we rampage.”

“Box’s too thick for her to get through.”

“I make more Dust until she’s strong enough to break through, and meanwhile she keeps trying. Anything breaks under enough pressure.”

She gave me a look, and I was brought back into the present with the reminder. I’d almost been having fun for a minute there, while my dad was in the Nazis’ hands.

“I don’t know enough about Gesellschaft to guess at  _ their  _ plan, but if they think they can hold you they must have one. Does your power come with a resistance to Master effects?”

“Depends on the type, I’d think. Some would probably be disrupted when I died.”

She sighed. “Let’s just try not to let it get that far, then.”

* * *

 

Tattletale drove to Captain’s Hill, parking in a lesser-used side lot. 

I was above her being carried by Coryn, in contact through a sensor in her car and an open phone call on the flip phone. The phone was tucked away in the utility belt of my costume, its bad mic transmitting every noise around me.

Coryn was somewhat in-costume, although not as neatly as usual. I’d stolen some spraypaint from an art supply store on the same block of Lord Street, and I had still had her tabard tied around my waist under my clothing like a sash. She was visible, which was the important part.

I’d taken off the stolen hoodie and sweatpants, revealing my hero costume. Tattletale had watched me stare at the mask for a few long seconds, silent.

Eventually, I put it on and pulled the headband down around my neck, letting the mask hang under my chin. They needed to be sure that it was me, but I didn’t want to lose my mask. I did have to layer some Dust over my eyes without the prescription lenses, but that was invisible.

“Remember the range on your phone isn’t great, only about ten feet.”

“I know, I’ll be in range. Just do what you can.”

I allowed myself a moment to wish, powerfully, that I had other backup. Aegis to fly my father out, Vista to bend the battlefield to our advantage, Kid Win raining blasts down from above, Gallant to send them into a blind panic.

Clockblocker to rewind my dad if….

But you work with what you have, and I couldn’t ask them to follow me on this path.

My hour was almost up, and I could see lights on top of Captain’s Hill. Coryn flew us closer and landed so that we could approach on foot. I took a calming breath, cleared my mind.

_ Showtime. _

Coryn and I walked out of the sparse woods, into the broad flat area at the top of the hill. It was lit up tonight with bright camping lanterns placed in the grass, casting long shadows everywhere. Standing among the lights was Kaiser and three more people I didn’t recognize.

They had come in a large, rectangular truck, somewhat like a moving van. The back of it was still open, revealing that the walls were thick armored panelling, and a metal cage inside. Its engine idled, a dull undercurrent of sound.

I let my eyes travel over them and their paltry preparations, my disgust growing. This was the best they had to offer? They thought this was enough?

“Where is my father?” I asked, pitching my voice to carry across the distance still between us. I stopped at the first lantern.

“Safe,” Kaiser called back. He was swaying from one foot to the other, like he had been standing for a while and his feet hurt; or like he was nervous, but he didn’t sound as though he was. “For now. He’ll be released if you cooperate.”

Tattletale said, “He’s not nearby, but Kaiser has a visual on him. A camera feed being streamed to him. Ask for proof.”

“I want proof that you have him, and that he’s okay,” I demanded, finally taking a step past the lanterns. My shadow was flung out in front of me, adding to the patchwork all around us.

“Of course.” Kaiser pulled a smartphone out of his pocket and tossed underhand; I only barely caught it. What would he have done if I’d dropped it?

Dad was on the little screen, tied to a metal chair and gagged. A dried trickle of blood from a split eyebrow, a freshly-forming bruise around it. He was conscious and staring dully at the camera. If he was afraid, he was hiding it well.

“I’m going to assume he showed you something,” Tattletale broke my reverie.

I clenched my hand around the phone and dropped it to my side. “Okay. Fine. What now?”

“Fuck,” Tattletale whispered. “I need to be able to  _ see  _ them.”

“Now you get in the truck and we go for a little trip. When we get there, your dad goes free.”

I scanned the others; they were too quiet. “Who are they?”

Kaiser  _ tsked _ . “No more questions. Will you come quietly, or do you want to see something unfortunate on that phone?”

“Lazarus, I found the stream they’re using, I can see him. It’s not as secure as whatever they used for the phone call but I can’t… I can’t trace it.” Tattletale took a deep breath. “Okay, I can figure out where they’re keeping him. Stall.”

“If I go with you, what guarantee do I have that you’ll let my dad go?” I asked.

“I give you my word.” Kaiser said. I thought he might be smiling.

“Oh, you’re asking me,” Tattletale’s voice was very low. “He… I think he’ll let him go. Taylor, that’s a  _ bad thing _ . That means he thinks he has another way to make you behave.”

I wasn’t really listening. There was something strange about the way their shadows were cast on the ground, swaying and overlapping.

“Why don’t you get into the truck now?” One of the other men suggested. Actually a woman, going by the voice.

I didn’t really see a reason why not to, so I started walking towards the truck. The shadows weren’t that interesting anymore.

“Lazarus? Taylor? What’s going on?” Tattletale’s voice sounded strained. I knew that there was a good reason for it, that something was wrong, but I couldn’t quite summon up the need to do something about it.

“Watch your step,” the woman said graciously, lending me a hand to step up into the back. “Here, come inside. Bring your friend.” She closed the door to the cage behind Coryn.

“Do you have her?” Kaiser asked, watching me the way hawks watch mice.

“Completely. Easier than most, even - usually fear or high emotion makes them more resistant, this one fell right away.”

“Of course. Night, Fog, I’m happy to say we didn’t need your assistance tonight. Will you be riding back with us or make your own way?”

“It’s a lovely day for a walk in the park,” another woman said, her voice strangely lilting. “Isn’t it, dear?” 

“That it is.”

I stood inside the cage with Coryn beside me, looking around the interior of the truck. There were benches lining the sides just like the PRT trooper transports; Kaiser and the nice woman took a seat across from each other. Kaiser knocked on the wall between us and the driver, and the idling engine grumbled into gear.

“I suppose we don’t need the hostage anymore,” Kaiser mused. He leaned forward, gesturing at the woman.

“Hand the phone to him,” the woman told me.

I held up the smartphone still in my hand, wondering why it was important. I knew that it had, just a few moments ago, been a lifeline. It was nothing now. I held it out through the bars.

Kaiser tried to take it, but my fingers wouldn’t let go. He frowned and tugged harder, and eventually it came free. I let my hand fall empty to my side and stared at him.

“Are you sure she’s completely under?”

“Not a peep. Actually, it’s kind of weird how easy it is, like she doesn’t have emotions at all. Usually we only see those kind of results  _ after  _ the training.”

I became aware of another voice, talking from far away. “Lazarus, if you don’t respond right now I will call the PRT and give them your location. Please don’t make me call the damn heroes.”

I tried to speak, to tell Tattletale that I was fine, but the words wouldn’t come out. How strange.

Kaiser had called someone from the phone he took back, and was talking while I concentrated on Tattletale. He smiled as he hung up.

“Here,” he said, holding it up in landscape with the screen faced toward me. “You should watch this.”

I watched. I didn’t have anything better to do.

My dad was still there, bound and gagged in a room with a poured cement floor and walls. As I watched, a man in a black balaclava came into frame holding a gun.

My fingers twitched.

The woman said, “There’s some life.”

The man in the balaclava raised his gun and shot three times into dad’s chest.

Kaiser frowned and jerked the phone back, turning it around to look. The woman behind me murmured, “Oh, shit.”

Every molten drop of the endless fury I’d pushed away came crashing through me, a volcano, a hurricane. Cracks in the world ripped open, spilling in more Dust than I’d ever seen, all of it shaped like Coryn. I felt like I was on fire again, dying in the flames.

I screamed, not because it hurt but because words weren’t enough and if I didn’t do  _ something  _ I’d rip apart at the seams. My body was numb, my knees collapsing so fast I barely caught myself on my hands.

The flood of Dust poured into the truck. One of the Coryns ripped Kaiser’s head from his body just as a sword grew up from the floor and stabbed me in the stomach. The Dust in my blood clotted instantly, redirecting flow around the wound.

The woman died when another Coryn wrapped her claws around her neck and squeezed, slicing through the soft flesh instantly. There were two people in the driver’s cabin, helpless humans, and the Coryns worked together to rip the doors off and pull them out. They shouted and wriggled, trying to break the grip of a hundred hands and claws. 

They could see us, we realized as one of us wielded a spear made of Dust and plunged it through one man’s open mouth, pinning him dead like a butterfly. The other tried to beg but we couldn’t hear him over the roaring of meteors crashing down around us. The whole world was ending.

It wasn’t enough, nothing would be enough. There was such rage, such a font of infinite madness within us, these deaths could not satisfy. We ripped into the bodies with our claws and with a million tiny blades of Dust, flaying them to bones and grinding bones to nothing. We shredded the truck around us, tearing panels into strips into shrapnel, and it still wasn’t enough. 

We dug our claws into the grass and kept going.


	15. Lich 2.9

I became aware of voices in my range.  My Dust stirred, swirling into a new sensor automatically in response to my desire to hear.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Dauntless said.

It was Dauntless, Armsmaster, and Miss Militia. They stood at the bottom of the hill, staring up, in full costume. Armsmaster had his halberd out and propped up next to him like a staff, Dauntless’ lance leaned against his shoulder. They had come armed, ready to fight.

There hadn’t been a fight. They couldn’t have helped even if they had been here, and I had purposefully left them behind. For a second I still hated them, irrationally but powerfully.

“Was this a new cape?” Miss Militia wondered. “A new recruit to the Empire?”

I stood up, but I already knew what they were talking about. What I’d done to Captain’s Hill.

It looked like someone had carpet-bombed it from above, or taken a dozen amateurs in excavators and told them to go nuts. The grass was gone, mixed into the loose earth in the deep gouges and wide craters. There had been boulders underground that I had powdered into nothingness beneath a sandstorm of Dust. The hill was about four feet shorter than it used to be.

I wiped my face, where tears had dried and left salt behind. I checked the time; it had been forty minutes since I left Tattletale. I started down the hill as they started up it.

Coryn walked on all fours next to me, swollen up to twice her normal size so that she was as big as a small car. Some of my other Dust picked up loose dirt and draped it over her so that her shape could be seen.

Armsmaster stopped a few yards away from me, planting his halberd in the ground with force. I stopped too, taking it for the request it was.

“Lazarus,” he greeted, “What happened here?”

“The girl who called you, is she okay?” I meant, but couldn’t say,  _ did I kill her too? _ I didn’t remember it, but I wouldn’t want to.

“I asked - ” Armsmaster started to say.

Miss Militia interrupted him. “She’s fine. She directed us here and said she’d clear out of the area.”

I nodded. “Thanks. They killed my dad.”

All three of them fell silent. 

Eventually, Dauntless said, “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault,” I responded, simply. “Kaiser, two men, and one parahuman woman whose name I didn’t get, are all dead. No bodies. They’re dust now.”

Miss Militia holstered her pistol and took a step forward. “Come with us,” Her voice was gentle, soothing, caring. “We’ll get you some help, a place to stay… This doesn’t have to… you don’t have to run away again.”

“Last time someone put me in a cage, I had to watch my dad die. I don’t think I’ll be letting it happen again.”

Who could they hold over my head now? The Wards? They wouldn’t threaten their own kids to get to me.

“No. I’m leaving.”

“Where do you think you’ll go?” Armsmaster asked. “We can justify a lot, but not… this.” His hand swept out, over the ruined hill. “We can’t just let this kind of power walk around unchecked.”

I sighed. My Dust swirled around us, undiminished. It was a cloud big enough to form thirty-seven of Coryn, so thick that it looked like a black fog around me no matter how small I made the particles, and there was enough to collectively blast the heroes with a wind that made all three stumble back a step.

“Please don’t try to fight me,” I said. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to. I have so little left to lose, and nothing that you can take from me.”

He was silent for a long few moments. Miss Militia’s weapon shifted from a pistol to a knife to a sword to a handgun, darting into her hand. Dauntless stared at me from the slit in his helmet, eyes sad and apologetic.

Armsmaster finally spoke: “What are you going to do now?”

And I answered him honestly, “I’m going to sleep for a long time. Then I’m going to hunt down and capture the dregs of the Empire. After that, I don’t know.” Inspiration struck - something to do, something useful that they might stay off my back. “Maybe I’ll go visit Ellisburg.”

Miss Militia’s eyes widened, and Dauntless said, “Huh?”

Armsmaster came to a decision. He nodded shortly and pulled up his halberd, folding it away. “I know your powerset and I agree that we cannot capture you at this time. We’re willing to leave peacefully if you are.”

I smiled at him, but it was just automatic. All the feeling had been wrung out of me, and not in a calming way. Every emotion was a bruise that I didn’t want to poke.

Coryn wrapped me up, and we took off into the sky.

* * *

 

I flew blindly, going so high up that I began to get light-headed. Coryn dropped down a bit, and I stared at the familiar pattern of the streets below. There was my neighborhood, and my house - still easily identified by the lights. There was the Boardwalk, the PRT building, and out on the bay the PHQ sat, a glittering gem.

I drifted away. Arcadia and Winslow; from up here you couldn’t tell that they were entirely different places. Lord Street Market, where Vista and I had laughed together hours ago.

I felt untethered. What kept me here, without my dad? What kept anyone anywhere? Imagined obligations, their group mentality keeping them in line with the rest of the monkeys. You could break the social contract so easily, but most never do.

I looked up. I wonder what would happen if I were to die in space. Is it like drowning, or suffocating?

I held my breath and went higher, to a place where there was no air, only the earth below and the stars above. My head was pounding and I’d be dead in a few minutes, but first I wanted to see more of the world.

I saw the sun begin to rise.

The sparse clouds cast huge shadows, nearly perpendicular to the earth, and the bay turned into rippled molten gold. The horizon was a thick stripe of rich cobalt blue over thinner stripes of red and orange and yellow. Behind me, the icy white mountain caps blazed so bright. Brockton Bay was a glittering gray spiderweb clinging to the edge of the fiery water, its highways thin gossamer strands stretching out along the shore and across the mountains.

It was without a doubt the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. 

All I could think was that my mom would have cried to see it, and I couldn’t show her.

* * *

I found another empty house, this one in a more wealthy area farther from my house - Emma’s neighborhood, in fact. I collapsed onto the bed in the master bedroom, startled to find that it was a waterbed. That was too strange, so I switched to what looked like a guest bedroom with a normal bed. I passed out as soon as my head hit the pillow, still in full costume.

As Coryn and my Dust, I restlessly combed through the entirety of my range. Just a lot of people beginning to wake up, some of them engaging in activities I didn’t care to observe. Through dozens of eyes I watched every morning news program; they were reporting on my identity leak and the subsequent kidnapping, but they didn’t have any new information.

That was, until a breaking news bulletin came up with footage from a traffic helicopter, hovering over Captain’s Hill. It looked worse from above, and you could see the edge of my range as a border where the grass was relatively undisturbed. There were PRT trucks with their orange lights blocking off the walking paths and the public parking lots.

I didn’t understand what the newscasters were saying about the destruction, and I didn’t care to. If I could sleep for the next month, I would.

But it was only eight hours in when my phone started buzzing, a vibration right against my hip. I jerked awake, pulling enough Dust to form Coryn back into the room with me, and sat up in the bed.

The only people with this number were Tattletale and Clockblocker - and the Empire, I supposed, but I doubted they would be calling me. I wasn’t sure which of them I wanted it to be.

I recognized the number as Tattletale’s. After a moment of staring at the phone, I realized I already knew I was going to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Lazarus, get out of there. PRT’s closing in. No heroes with them, yet.”

All traces of sleep vanished. I scanned through my sensors, looking for evidence of her claims, but there was nothing… perhaps more cars coming in than going out? But how could I know that wasn’t normal?

“How do you know? Actually, how do you know where I am?”

“Guessed. You looked for an empty house, not in your area but fairly close by, and you like familiarity. Sorry, but I do know about your ex-friend. The PRT knows where you are because all the stuff you have in the air is really fucking with air currents, and they’ve caught on.”

_ Armsmaster _ . In our experiments he’d found that my Dust can be vaguely tracked because larger pieces, or smaller pieces in large amounts, disturb the air they pass through. He was also starting to look into a filter for his visor to possibly be able to see Dust, using data collected by a machine Dragon provided.

I supposed that it was fair, that I was technically an enemy or at least a fugitive right now, but it still stung like a betrayal. I liked him.

“Taylor? Are you leaving?”

“I was thinking I might just fight them,” I admitted. “I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder constantly… if I show them that they can’t take me, wouldn’t they back off?”

“Short term yes, long term no. Look, you know Lung? He had to fight the entire Brockton Bay Protectorate to a standstill to get them to realize it’s better to leave him alone. Think you can do the same?”

_ Yes _ , I thought, Dust swirling as it coalesced into a dense aura around me. It was too thick to see through, so I posted sensors all around me.  _ I can fight them. _

But did I want to?

I felt sick. This was what killed my dad: not my carelessness, not my actions, it was my lack of commitment. I held back from asking the Wards for help because - why? Did I care about their careers more than my father’s life? I refused Tattletale’s offer of the Undersiders’ help because I didn’t want to be a villain, but wouldn’t I kill for him? I was a villain now, or as good as to the PRT, and he was still dead.

I had lied to myself believing that I was weighing my choices logically. If I had truly believed he would die, I would have done things differently - called on the Wards, or if they couldn’t help then Tattletale’s team. Instead I fooled myself into thinking that I could handle it alone. 

Piggot was right; my overconfidence got  _ other  _ people killed.

“Taylor, what you’re thinking is a bad idea.”

“Why?” Commit. Set the goal and do what you can live with.  _ For real this time. _

“Because you gain nothing from it! What’s the objective? What will fighting them achieve?”

_ It’ll make me feel better _ , I thought.  _ It’ll fill this void in me, for however long it lasts. _ Then I took a deep breath and pushed the emotions away so that I could think clearly, and realize what a mistake that would have been.

Coryn took us both out through the window just as two soccer-mom vans converged on the driveway of the house, spilling out troopers and a man with a megaphone.

“Huh, they want to negotiate,” Tattletale said. “I’m watching from a bodycam. You look like hell, by the way.”

“Lazarus!” the man with the megaphone called up to me. He started to say something else, but I covered his mouth with Dust and he froze.

I formed a couple dozen miniature Coryns, circled around the troopers. Through their throats I said, “ _ Stop following me, stop tracking me. I won’t be hunted like an animal. When I have something to say to you, I will find you. _ ”

I took the Dust away from the man’s mouth and waited for his answer. If they were smart they’d back off, but I didn’t have much hope there.

“Director Piggot would like you to come in so you can talk,” he replied, his face pale.

Neighbors peered out of their windows at our spectacle, cars slowing to a crawl on the street as they passed. I came to hover above the troopers and their speaker, Coryn easily holding me up.

“ _ What I want, she can’t give me. _ ” I told him. “ _ We have nothing to talk about. _ ”

“You can’t expect to just be left alone!” he exclaimed. “You  _ know  _ things.”

I understood. I knew the civilian identities of all the Wards and half the heroes, I could identify the faces of the other half, and my own identity had been made public. I didn’t have anything to lose, nothing they could hold over my head to keep me silent.

And, I was sure, there was nothing I could say to convince them that I would never use that information. It was like every time I told dad that he didn’t need to worry about me dying: they were too scared of the alternatives to believe me.

I wasn’t about to bend over backward trying to convince them otherwise.

“ _ Stay the hell away from me. _ ” I said, instead of arguing a point they would never concede. “ _ I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you give me no other choice. _ ”

“Spooky,” Tattletale commented through the phone I had mostly forgotten about. “If you want a safe place to crash, hide your telekinesis-stuff - ”

“It’s called Dust.”

“Your Dust, and come to the old south ferry station on foot. I’ll meet you there.”

“I don’t need your help anymore.” I told her tiredly. I had eight hours of sleep and somehow it felt like two. Maybe it was summoning all this Dust that had drained me.

“How exactly were you planning on tracking down the rest of the Empire? ‘Cause I can guarantee you they’ve gone to ground, if they haven’t run out of town entirely.”

“...Fine. I’ll meet you near the station.”

“Great! Might wanna pick up some regular people clothes on the way. See you in a bit.”

She hung up, and I looked down at the filthy costume I’d forgotten I was wearing.  _ Great. More theft by Coryn. _

* * *

Tattletale eyed me when we met, but wisely didn’t comment on my appearance again. It was mid-morning and I had just barely had enough time to steal another hoodie and pair of sweatpants before the thrift shop opened. My Dust was a thick black fog at knee-height, spread over my entire range. Even Coryn was just Dust right now, so her massive shape couldn’t set off any sensors.

“C’mon, this way. I’ve got an apartment near here, you can crash there.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, running a hand through my greasy hair. I hit a crusty spot and grimaced; Kaiser’s blood. He’d sprayed a lot when I ripped his head off. “Got a shower there?”

“Yep. Water pressure’s pretty decent, too.”

“Y’know, the excuse that you’re helping me because the Empire ‘broke the rules’ is wearing kinda thin at this point,” I said, reluctantly. I really wanted that shower, but I also knew I wouldn’t be able to relax until we hashed this out.

She shrugged and smiled at me, eyes half-closed with a smug look. “That’s how it started, but I’ve kept going because I like you, Taylor. I don’t want to see you caught by the heroes and forced into a bad position.”

I’d never gotten this much  _ attention _ before I became a parahuman. “Um, I don’t swing that way. Just saying.”

She laughed. “Me neither. People are allowed to like people as friends, you know? You’ve never seen someone and just wanted to get to know them better, no ulterior motive?”

Carlos, Dennis, Missy; they all made me laugh, something I valued highly. Armsmaster, Assault, and Battery to a lesser extent, more distant because of their age. They were all people I felt drawn to for one reason or another, but I wouldn’t call my interest in any of them  _ romantic _ .

“Yeah, I guess I get what you’re saying.”

“...I’m sorry you lost them.”

My throat was almost too thick to speak through, and my eyes burned, but there weren’t any tears. “Don’t be. Nothing you could have done.”

Tattletale didn’t have anything to say to that, and we got all the way to her apartment door in silence.

She took a key out of her pocket and turned to me. “Hey Taylor, what made you decide to be a Ward?”

I shrugged. “Dad wanted me to. I wanted….” I trailed off with no good answer. “Something to do, I guess. And then I made friends there,”  _ I think. I hope. _ “And I didn’t regret it. Why did you become a villain?”

She smiled thinly, without mirth, and unlocked the door to let me inside. “Oh, you know… the usual reasons. I didn’t really have any other choice.”


	16. Lich: Interludes

“And we’re taking you now, live, to an aerial view of Captain’s Hill from our traffic copter. Vern, what’s that we’re seeing out there?”

“I can only guess that the Hill was the site of a cape battle last night, Gill. I want to assure you people that this isn’t an optical illusion, this is the whole Hill and there really is just that much destruction here. We’ve sent footage to a surveyor who said that the area is likely too unstable to walk on, so I think it’s safe to say that Captain’s Hill will be closed to the public for the foreseeable future. 

“Right now, as you can see, it’s cordoned off by the Parahuman Response Team; no official response yet from their Director Piggot….”

* * *

#### 2.c

Coil sat back in his chair, elbows on the arms and hands steepled under his chin. He smiled slightly.

He did so love it when a plan came together.

This one was not without its risks. He had split his destiny at the moment he pressed the key to spill Lazarus’ identity to the internet, and he had restrained himself from splitting it many times after that. If something went wrong, he needed to be able to undo _everything_.

In one world, he did nothing. The Undersiders, operating on intelligence gathered by Circus and shared with them for a fee, hit a jewelry store on Lord Street and skirmished with Lazarus and Vista. They escaped - barely, and only because Lazarus didn’t try her hardest. Lazarus went home and the Empire continued to call in favors and gather new parahumans to their banner, preparing to break their capes out.

In the other world, Lazarus was severed from the PRT and the Protectorate. A very special pawn free for the taking; a power they couldn’t be allowed to keep.

Coil’s attention turned to the live camera feed in one of the long-term holding cells. It supplied all of the basic needs, except perhaps if you counted freedom or socialization among those needs, and fresh food came in through a dumbwaiter too small to fit any size of person. No interaction, or chance for escape, needed.

Coil stood up, stretched, and went for an ambling walk around his base that ended right outside the cell door. He pressed his palm to the reader and leaned forward to let it scan his retina. The door opened.

The man in the cell had seen better days. He’d tried to clean up the dried blood on his face in the sink with some success, and he was no longer wearing the shirt with the fake blood packets spilled down it, but there was still a certain exhaustion to him.

He eyed Coil warily, staying where he was on the other side of the room, by the mini-fridge. The plastic cup of water in his hand trembled.

“Good morning,” Coil greeted, his lips turned up and teeth showing behind his mask. It would be a mistake to call this expression a smile. “How are you feeling, Mister Hebert?”

“Fine. Better. I guess that wasn’t a weird rescue, was it?” Danny was quite pale, beginning to sport a shadow of a beard. One of the lenses of his glasses had been knocked out.

“No, I’m afraid not,” Coil admitted. 

“I figured it was the Empire before but… you’re Coil, aren’t you?”

“Was it the snake that gave it away?”

Danny let out a snort of half-hysterical laughter. “Yeah, a little. What… what do you want me for?”

“Why don’t you have a seat,” Coil tilted his head toward the little dining table with two chairs set around it. “There are a few reasons, but of course the only really important one is your daughter.”

The plastic cup crumpled in Danny’s grip, spilling water down over his fist as it split. He took a deep breath and released it, then crossed the room to sit down. “She won’t do anything for you. Not for me.”

“On the contrary,” Coil said, sitting across from him. “She has already killed four people because she believes you are dead. Soon she’ll be hunting down and eliminating the rest of the Empire from our fair city. Once she’s finished destroying my enemies, I’ll point her somewhere else.”

“Four people?” Danny murmured, his gaze going distant for a moment. Then it came back to Coil, sharpened and angry again. “Where do I fit into that, then? Why not just kill me for real?”

Coil spread his hands. “Insurance. If all goes to plan, you’ll die in a month or so with no one the wiser. If, however, she should find out that this was a manipulation… your life will make for a decent bargaining chip.”

Danny stared at him for a moment, swallowed convulsively a few times. He spoke, hoarsely, “She’s going to kill you. For her sake, I hope she does it fast.”

Coil shrugged, unbothered. “An amusing sentiment. Unfortunately for you, I know your daughter better than you appear to.”

Danny shook his head, clearing his throat and laughing a bit again. “Now I _know_ you’re not a parent. They’ll always surprise you.”

Coil sneered behind his mask. There might be more information he could get out of Mister Hebert, but nothing right now. A few days alone in his cell, nothing to occupy him and no one to talk to, and he’d be more willing to share. Isolation is by itself a form of torture.

He left, the door locking automatically behind him.

* * *

“She seems to have more Dust now than she did before, an order of magnitude more. During experiments with her power she divulged that she had about two cubic feet of Dust, outside of what she uses to form her minion. It is my judgement that at the time, she was not lying.

“When we encountered her at Captain’s Hill, she had enough to push her minion to twice its normal size, and more besides. Previous testing revealed that she could create a a light breeze by moving her Dust through the air in its particulate form, but it was not very powerful. At the Hill, she was able to stagger myself, Miss Militia, and Dauntless with a strong, sudden wind.

“We are unsure how she created so much more Dust, our best theory right now being this phrase.”

“ _Not your fault…. Kaiser, two men, and one parahuman woman whose name I didn’t get, are all dead. No bodies, they’re dust now._ ”

* * *

#### 2.k

James took one last glance around the street and pressed the button next to _K. Anders_. “It’s me,” he said.

Without a response from the speaker box, he was buzzed in.

Kayden answered his knock on her door with Aster in her arms, bouncing slightly as she burped the baby. She narrowed her eyes at him and moved just barely to the side.

“If you’re here on _his_ behalf, you can leave right now. I don’t care how many people you lost on that stupid attack. And outing a Ward? Has he lost his mind?”

James grimaced. If even Kayden believed that Kaiser had done that, convincing anyone else would be nearly impossible. “That wasn’t us. Whoever did it made damn sure it looked like us, but you know Max. He’d never do something so foolish.”

She stared at him, eyebrows raised. For a moment the baby began to fuss as she stopped bouncing, and then she started again. “So he didn’t post that website everywhere, or kidnap that man out of his own home? It’s an incredible frame job, if not.”

“No… he did give the order to kidnap Daniel Hebert. We needed to act fast. It was clear that we’d be blamed for the site, we needed to do _something_.” James made an aggravated noise, one hand clenching in anger. “Gesellschaft promised secure passage to Europe for everyone and their families, if we could bring in the Ward. Lazarus.”

Kayden sighed. “Why are you here, James? I told you on the phone, I won’t help you. I’m finally getting somewhere with the heroes.”

“Not after tonight you aren’t,” James said. “And I told _you_ , you don’t know everything yet.” He took a deep breath, and admitted, “Max is dead.”

It felt strange to say it. There was no body, no proof. There were no witnesses.

Max and Mesmer went to Captain’s Hill. Now the Hill was gone, and nobody had heard from Max. Even the basement they’d stashed Hebert in was empty, no captive, no guards, only a puddle of blood left behind. Everything had been going according to their hastily-slapped-together plan right up until it all fell apart at once.

It was too good, too fast. It was on purpose. Something was working against them even more directly than _Lazarus_.

He explained all of this to Kayden. She sat down on the couch abruptly, as if her legs couldn’t support her anymore. When he was done, she said faintly, “He’s… dead?”

James nodded.

She looked down at baby Aster, now sleeping peacefully in her arms. She looked back up at him. “What did you want from me? Why come here, Krieg? You have to know I wouldn’t help you.”

“I had hoped that you might. I still hope that you might tell Night and Fog to lend their aid again…”

“That was a favor for Max,” she snapped. “One that he made clear I couldn’t refuse.”

“Then please, for his sake… If you ever loved him….”

“I thought I did, and I was wrong. That wasn’t love. I know what love is, now.” She was gazing down at Aster again, her eyes so soft.

“Don’t you care at all?” James asked, quietly. “She killed Max, and Gerald and Perry. For all I know, she’s coming for the rest of us next. This could be the end of the Empire. Aren’t we your friends? Do you think we wouldn’t stand by you?” He saw her wavering, and pushed on, “Do you think she’ll leave you alone? You’re still connected to us, however much you wish you weren’t. What if she finishes with us and then comes for you? You’ll be alone.”

He pushed too far. Her expression hardened, mouth pressing into a thin line. “Get out. If you’re being hunted, I don’t know why the fuck you thought it would be okay to come here. I haven’t been with the Empire in months, I’m finally getting away from your taint. You aren’t Max, James, you don’t have his silver tongue and you certainly can’t talk me back in.”

James felt his small hope snuffed out. He quickly flicked through backup plans - threaten her own civilian identity, her daughter, her safety - and discarded them. She’d kill him herself if she thought he was serious.

“Wait.” He stopped at the door, held his breath. “If Max is dead… where is Theo? He doesn’t need to be caught up in this. He shouldn’t have to die for Max’s mistakes.”

James let the breath out. “You’re right, I’ll send him to you. With any luck, the sins of the father won’t be visited on the son.” A beat. A last reminder. “Or the daughter.”

He left. Behind him, Kayden shifted Aster up and buried her face in the baby’s neck, inhaling deeply. Tears leaked down her face, silent, absorbed by the soft onesie.

* * *

“That was fast. What did you find?”

“It doesn’t look like Lazarus is going to be as much of a problem as we thought.”

“Oh?”

“Coil has her. In fact, he’s the reason she left the Wards.”

“Hm. Sometimes I do regret being so hands-off in that city.”

“This is well outside the original parameters for the experiment.”

“You’re right. And the Ajin would develop better in a heroic environment than a villainous one. I’ll get in contact with Coil, and we’ll see about bringing her back into the fold. He'll trade for a favor."

“He pulled her away from the Protectorate because he didn’t want her in their hands, working against him.”

“I see. Well, we’d have to arrange for her to transfer out of the city anyway. Perhaps Alexandria could take in another wayward Ward.”


	17. Wraith 3.1

“Not this one,” I reported to Tattletale, holding the phone against my ear as I walked by the Empire fight ring.

“You checked every face in there that fast?” Her tone was doubtful.

“I have hundreds of eyes, Tattletale - ”

“Ssst! I told you, call me Lisa! I’d rather not have my villain name linked to your crusade.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Yes, it’s so shameful to be cleaning up the Nazi scum in this city. Whatever. Lisa, I have hundreds of eyes, and there aren't many people in there to begin with, so yes I'm sure. The guy you showed me isn’t here.”

“Alright, next one is north-northeast of you. Hopefully we’ll find Stormtiger there. It’s supposed to be the active ring tonight, which is why I left it for last. If he’s there, he’s not hiding out, he’s trying to run.”

I picked up the pace, beginning to jog. It might have looked strange, a young woman jogging alone at night in jeans and a sweatshirt, but there was no one to see.

I looked out through the Dust mask I had over my face, my glasses abandoned in the Ward locker room two days ago. I felt naked, exposed without them or my mask, but there was no point to either; my face was known, and a girl with a mask caught more attention that one without.

“Call you when I’m close,” I said to Lisa, and slipped the phone back into my sweatshirt’s pocket. If Stormtiger was running, time was of the essence. I gathered my Dust into invisible armor around me, grew wings, and took off. I had to stay on the road and near street-level to avoid the monitoring system the PRT had set up to track me, but that wasn’t a hardship.

I knew almost as soon as the dog-fighting ring entered my range, as my Dust phased through a sound-proofed wall, formed into a sensor, and blasted me with screaming cheering voices. I looked down on a shallow pit, the bottom of it covered in filthy sand, surrounded by two layers of chainlink fence with a narrow walkway between them. Around the outermost layer, a frenzied crowd clung to the links and howled for blood. In the pit two dogs circled each other, lips curled back from snarling yellow teeth.

I tore my attention away from that and sent in more sensors, phasing through the thick walls into every corner. I found Stormtiger in a room they were using as an office, putting a stack of cash into a counting machine as the woman next to him rolled another wad and put a rubber band around it.

“That’s all the entry fees,” she reported, thumping one roll down next to six others in a row. “You wanna take the bets too, hon?”

“Fuck yeah, not like we’ll be hanging around to deal with it,” Stormtiger said, shooting her a quick smile. He seemed to be on edge.

I landed and started walking again, my wings mantling over my shoulders like a cloak. I pulled out the phone again.

“Got him,” I said when Lisa picked up. “His girlfriend too, looks like.” They were kissing now; I resisted the urge to disturb them and make them stop.

“She’s got a record but no warrants so I wouldn’t bother trying to capture her too. Unless you’re expanding your revenge pool?”

“No, just the Empire’s capes. I’m going in.”

“Don’t you have enough Dust to do it from like a block away?”

I stood on the sidewalk outside of the building; it was an old firehouse, closed down and auctioned off. The Empire had refitted it with the soundproof walls, their fighting ring now in the garage that used to house the firetrucks. I looked up at the window behind which one of my targets was loading up his cash into a duffel bag.

My hands clenched into fists, short nails digging into my palms. “Yeah, but I want to do this personally.”

I formed Coryn in her new, double-sized body on top of the roof. She crawled down the side, claws crumbling the old brick and sending little bits of it sprinkling to the ground. She gripped the edges of the window, more fragments raining down around me - Stormtiger’s head snapped up, alerted by the noise - and tore the whole thing out.

I spread my wings, catching the falling brick dust in them to make them visible, and rose into the gap. Stormtiger had his mask on and his girl behind him was frantically shaking the bolt on the door; I’d broken the bolt with some Dust, so it was stuck locked.

“Lazarus,” Stormtiger snarled. His eyes narrowed, turned shrewd. “Look… I didn’t know what Kaiser was planning. I didn’t sign on for that shit. What do I gotta do so you’ll let me go?”

Anger, never far away anymore, soared through me. “The only thing I want, the only thing that you can give me, is your ruin. I want your first thought, every day, to be ‘I shouldn’t have done it.’ I want you to go to sleep knowing that the next day will bring no relief. I want you to live the rest of your life alone, in the dark, in misery, in regret. I want you to  _ long  _ for death. I want your whole worthless life, Stormtiger,  _ Neil Cooper _ . Death is too short for you and your friends.”

Stormtiger’s girlfriend finally worked the last pin out of the hinges, yanking it open and letting it clatter onto the floor. Stormtiger didn’t look back or try to run with her.

“I ain’t gonna make it easy on you,” he warned, his fingers forming rigid claw-shapes.

“You’d have to try very hard to make this any easier,” I told him, reaching in with Coryn’s wing. She wrapped it behind him and swept forward, pushing him out of the hole she’d made. I flew back to avoid him, although one of his air-claws raked down my calf. I winced at the ball of pain that was my severed achilles tendon.

It was a two-storey fall, but he broke it with another blast of air and landed unharmed. I hovered just above the pavement, one foot hanging loose, and directed Coryn to start tearing down the building. The dog fighting had gone on for quite long enough.

Stormtiger threw his air-blasts and edged backward as he did, perhaps looking for an escape. I moved massive amounts of Dust between us, blocking the blasts as I followed him step for step.

“Fuck you!” he spat. “Fucking psychotic little bitch… Stop  _ playing  _ with me! Fucking fight!”

Behind us, one wall of the firehouse came down, rubble spilling out into the street. Shrieking people spilled out, covering their heads and scattering as they realized outside was no less dangerous.

I shook my head. “You’re not worth fighting.” He was breathing heavily, taking in more Dust with each gasp. I pulled it all together and blocked his lungs; he gagged and choked, staring up at me with hate in his eyes. “None of you are worth so much as the air you breathe.”

He passed out, and I wrapped him up in Coryn’s talons. Together we took off, flying towards the Bay with a delivery for the PHQ’s holding cells.

* * *

 

“Next target?” I demanded when Lisa  _ finally  _ picked up the phone.

“Lazarus, buddy, it’s eight in the morning,” She went silent for a moment, a brush of air over the mic as she yawned. She continued in a sleepy voice, “Calm your tits.”

I scowled. “I am calm, does this sound not-calm to you?”

“Yeah, you’re pretty much exhibit A for workaholics. Wait, exhibit B. I forgot about Armsmaster.”

“Ha, ha,” I said mechanically. “I knew he was my favorite for a reason. Do you have my next target or not?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got ‘em. How do you feel about Krieg, AKA James Fliescher?”

“I feel like he’s got a lot to answer for. Where can I find him?”

Lisa paused. She sounded a bit more awake when she asked, “Hey, are you sure? You just took care of Stormtiger last night. Krieg isn’t going anywhere today, I promise. His identity is more secure than the rest of the Empire’s.”

“I just want to get it done with,” I told her.  _ I just want this to be over. _

“Well, don’t worry about losing him. He might even be sticking around to receive a new wave of Nazi capes Gesellschaft sends over. That hypno cape the Empire had was definitely theirs, I’m not sure if they’ll cut their losses or try to replace the Empire with a new Nazi team.”

If they came, they wouldn’t be the same Empire. They were tangentially connected to Kaiser and my father’s death… but that had only been possible because of that Master cape Gesellschaft sent.

“If they show up, I’ll hunt them down too,” I decided.

“That sounds like more work for me.”

I should have kept Stormtiger and interrogated him. “...Sorry, Lisa. After Krieg I think I’ll be fine to get the rest of them on my own.”

“Torture? I’d say I didn’t know you had it in you, but I actually did. Still, you want to take that step?”

I looked out over another sunrise, sitting cross-legged on Coryn’s back so high in the air that I could hardly breathe. I reached down to stroke Coryn’s black feathers. “Actions have consequences. I’ve chosen theirs and will pursue it until it is complete. Set your goal and commit to it. Do what you can live with.”

But I can’t die, can I? So really I can live with anything. I didn’t fully realize this until after my dad was dead, and my last tether to mortal life was severed.

“Taylor…” Lisa said.

“Please tell me where Krieg is,” I interrupted her.  _ Then I’ll be gone, and nobody else will die because of me. _

“...No.”

Flatly, “What?”

“Not like this. Meet me here, near the docks, on the roof,” she rattled off an address, “And I’ll tell you in person.”

_ A trap? _

I glanced down at Coryn. It didn’t matter if it was a trap; nothing and no one could hold me. In fact, a trap might just be the thing I needed to kick myself out of this fugue.

“Alright. See you in a bit.”


	18. Wraith 3.2

“You thought this was a trap,” Lisa accused as she climbed over the edge of the fire escape.

“I thought it might be,” I defended myself, “And then I realized it would be pretty stupid for you to stage a trap for me that puts us both on a roof.”

“Us three,” she corrected, and turned around to haul someone else up behind her. I'd known he was there, of course, but he couldn't have looked less threatening if he was soaking wet and giving puppy-dog eyes.

It was a boy, my age or possibly younger, pale and with wrists as skinny as mine, I saw when Lisa wrapped her hand around one to pull him up. As he stood he batted Lisa’s hands away and smoothed down his white V-neck shirt, fastidiously checking it for dirt.

“That fire escape is filthy,” he said, curling his lip at Lisa. “I’ve never had a tetanus shot, you know. I could die.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “We should be so lucky.” She turned back to me. “Taylor, this is Regent, AKA Alec. Alec, say hello.”

Alec waved and said, “Yo.”

“...Hi.” I glanced at him once more - those were very tight pants, no wonder he had trouble on the fire escape - and focused on Lisa. “Okay, I’m meeting you, here, in person. Can you tell me where to find Krieg now?”

“I was thinking we could socialize first,” she said brightly. “Life’s not only about Nazi-hunting. Let’s go get coffee!”

“Don’t like coffee,” I muttered, staring at her with narrowed eyes. I looked at Alec again. “Are you trying to recruit me for your team?”

Alec snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “That’s right! You’re that Lazarus bitch the news won’t shut up about. Hey, nice work with the Nazis.”

“Thanks,” I said, slightly stunned. It took him this long to catch on?

“Tats wants you for the team?” he folded one arm over his chest and propped the other elbow on it, hand to his chin. “I guess I could see it. It would put the balance of murderers over the fifty-percent line though… Unless she’s replacing Bitch?”

“Bitch stays,” Lisa said dryly.

“Damn. Guess that’s me out, then. Did you guys bring me up here to off me?” He seemed very casual about the possibility; I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “‘Cuz I gotta say, you don’t have to do that. I’ll just leave.”

“Nobody is dying or getting kicked off the team,” Lisa rolled her eyes. “I really, honestly, truly just want to get some coffee with my friends.”

“Aw, I didn’t know you cared, Lees,” Alec smirked. “Gross.”

She ignored him. “So, Taylor, you in?”

My lips were sucked in between my teeth; I wasn’t fighting a smile, but it felt almost like being back with the Wards. One drink wouldn’t hurt.

_ Still… _ I pointed at my face and said, “I’m kind of Brockton Bay’s most wanted right now.”

Lisa produced three pairs of massive sunglasses from her purse, grinning. “Don’t worry, I got us covered.”

* * *

 

Even with sunglasses that covered half my face, I felt exposed.

“We look ridiculous,” I muttered, ducking to hide my face as we passed another group. Giggling preteen girls moving as a group along the Boardwalk, one harried-looking father trailing along behind them.

“Speak for yourself,” Alec adjusted his shades. “I look great in everything.”

Unfairly, he did look quite good. I wondered if fashion was an in-born talent or something you had to work on.

“Do you guys have a shop preference? I was thinking Yellow Bird, but last time I was there the muffins were kind of stale.” Lisa pointed to a storefront we were coming up on, two tiny yellow tables on either side of the door with kitschy yellow folding chairs around them.

“They really went all-in on that theme, huh,” Alec observed. “Nah, fuck them, they never put enough flavor shots in. Let’s go to Baybucks.”

“ _ That _ knockoff?” Lisa sounded offended. “Taylor, any input? Come on, tiebreaker.”

“Which one has better tea?”

That gave them both pause. Then Alec said, “What are you, eighty? This isn’t Great Britain anymore, grandma.”

“Alec!” Lisa elbowed him sharply in the side, but I found myself smiling. Alec was reminding me of Dennis a little, injecting levity even when I didn’t know I wanted it.

“How much farther is Baybucks?” I wanted to get this little excursion underway as soon as possible; Lisa owed me a location.

Alec pointed a little way down the Boardwalk, to another cafe that had a line coming out the open door. At Lisa’s withering look, he said, “That’s how you know it’s  _ good _ .”

“Yellow Bird doesn’t have a line, so let’s go there.” I decided, starting forward. Lisa had a goal or a plan in mind before she’d tell me where to find Krieg, and the sooner I could move her plan the sooner I moved my own.

“Fine, but Lisa’s paying!” Alec said, shoving his hands in his pockets. Only up to the first few knuckles - the pockets were too shallow to fit anything else.

“Obviously. You didn’t bring your wallet and Taylor’s a guest.”

“I could pay, though,” I offered as we got into the short line. “I took the money from Stormtiger last night, and it’s not like I’ve got anything to spend it on.” Idly, I wondered what would happen to the house, now. It was probably mine, right? Did the PRT have authority to seize my assets, or whatever?

“They’d have to charge you with a crime _and_ get a conviction to take your house, as long as you keep paying taxes and keep it in good repair they can’t touch it.”

“Creepy,” Alec remarked.

“Are you sure you’re not a mind reader?” I asked. How could she possibly know what I’d been thinking about?

“Come on, I didn’t even need my power for that. It’s pretty easy to track money to money troubles, house-mortgage-repairs, with dad gone what’s going to happen to the house, will it be taken away. Simple.”

“Must be exhausting being you,” Alec said, pushing his sunglasses up to rest on top of his head. “Having to know everything all the time.”

“Some of us like to  _ use  _ our brains,” Lisa squinted at him, feigning offense.

“Yeah, like I said, exhausting.”

I got to the front and ordered my tea, moving to the side for Alec to step up to the counter next.

“Are we going to talk here?” I asked Lisa, tipping my head from one side to the other to indicate our rather public surroundings.

“Yeah, get us a table outside?” It was her turn to order, and pay.

I picked up my tea from the counter and went back out into the bright, slightly chilly morning. Some Dust wrapped around me kept the breeze off my skin and, surprisingly, seemed to be keeping my body heat in. I made a mental note to experiment later with the insulation properties.

“Hm,” Alec said as he pulled out a metal chair, the legs scraping against the ground. “Weird. You doing something fucky with the wind?”

“You curse kind of a lot,” I said, sipping my too-hot tea. “Yeah, I have a Dust shield up. I’m wondering if it blocks sound, too.” I couldn’t tell; I could hear everything both inside and outside it, through the Dust, but separating the sources when they were so close together was nearly impossible.

“Start talking,” he said, then stood and walked away. I smiled slightly, opening a hole in the Dust to let him through. The thin shell wouldn’t be enough to stop him, but he would have felt the resistance.

“I don’t know why Lisa wanted to meet for coffee before she tells me where to find Krieg, and frankly I’m starting to get annoyed with the delay. Stormtiger was already on his way out when I found him, and there’s still more of them to hunt down.”

Alec, facing me from outside the shell, made a thumbs-up sign and jerked it upwards. I raised my voice a bit.

“There’s still Krieg, Victor, Othala, and Crusader left to go, and possibly Purity, Night, and Fog after that. I don’t want to let any of them get away. I want… I want someone to pay for what happened to my dad.” I released a shaky breath. Alec made another  _ up  _ motion.

“ _ Someone _ has to!” I said it at a level just below shouting.

Alec came back in, joined by Lisa holding her coffee and a paper bag with a couple muffins in it. “No blueberries,” she said, setting one down in front of me. “What was that about?”

“Seeing if sound can get through this Dust shield I put up,” I muttered, slightly embarrassed and regretting letting myself get so riled up. I took a deep breath and centered myself again. “Could you hear any of that, Alec?”

“Yeah, heard all of it, it was just funny making you shout like a lunatic,” Alec said, putting his feet up on the table. Lisa reached over and shoved them off, glaring at him.

“He only heard you when you were shouting,” she told me. “Same as me. That’s a neat trick. God, you won the fucking power lottery. It’s so weird… usually powers run along one theme, unless it’s a grab-bag cape like Circus. But you triggered alone, right? And everything comes from your Dust. But why do you come back from the dead? How does  _ that  _ fit?”

I shrugged, unwilling to share more details about my power. “Does it matter?”

“I think….” she seemed troubled, trailing off. She shook her head. “I think the Dust is different. It’s not a power thing, that’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Well, yeah,” I said, blinking. “I don’t make it, it just… comes through and I control it.”

“Comes through from  _ where _ ?” she groaned, rubbing at her temples. “And why? And how?”

“Happens when I die, mostly,” I sipped at my tea again; it was almost cooled enough to drink. “I can kind of force it to come through, if I try really hard. That’s how I got Coryn. But making more is almost impossible since I brought her through, like she’s my limit. At least… until a couple nights ago.”

“When you got a whole lot more,” Lisa nodded. “So probably strong emotions either make it easier for you to pull Dust through from wherever, or strong emotions attract it through without you needing to pull at all. Which one sounds right?”

Had I pulled, or had it pushed? I couldn’t remember, and I didn’t want to. The moments leading up to that were burned into my mind’s eye. “I don’t know. Both, maybe.”

“Shit, alright, I gotta stop thinking about this for a while. Headache. Distract me.”

“You could tell me why you wanted to meet up in person and get coffee,” I suggested. “Or, better yet, just tell me where to find Krieg.”

“Come on, Taylor, you aren’t stupid. You know why.” Lisa gave me a look.

I was trying to give her another out, but okay. “I’m fine,” I snapped. “You aren’t my mother, my sister, you’re not even my friend. Don’t try to manipulate me into being something I’m not. I am here until the Empire is gone, that’s it.”

“Cold,” Alec muttered into his latte.

“And after the Empire is gone, what’s your plan then? Are you really going to go out and kill Nilbog, maybe wrap it up with the Slaughterhouse Nine? How damn boring is life going to be if you never talk to another human being again?”

"Hey, if you're taking prompts I have an idea for someone you could gank," Alec volunteered.

I sat, stone-faced, trying to come up with a riposte without thinking about her words.

Lisa’s voice gentled a little. “I know it hurts. You’re in pain, and it’s making you angry, and you want to make it stop and avoid feeling it ever again. But that’s human, Taylor. You feel like that because you’re still human. We’re just _people,_ with powers.”

_ Am I? _

“For now, yes. You… don’t have to be. You of all people can choose not to be. But I don’t think there’s any going back from that decision.”

For a moment I was in the past, staring down at the knife in my hand. In front of me, a printout from the library detailing the location of the carotid artery. I was kneeling in the bathtub, naked, alone but for Coryn. Dad was at work. I needed to know if it was a fluke; I needed to know if I came back every time.

I took a deep breath and plunged the knife into my neck.

With one decision I was freed from mortality. I set my feet on a path that took me away from Emma and Winslow, that found me new friends and lost them too soon after, that got my father killed. He died alone in an empty gray room, and he didn’t get to come back.

I blinked, two tears pushed out of my eyes and trailed slowly down my face. I wiped them away.

This was another choice like that one. To remain untethered, drifting through life unbothered by mortal ties. Life would be as dull as it was now, plodding from one thing to the next. I’d have to find something to occupy me, provoke interesting reactions from strangers that caught my eye. A bored child with a magnifying glass eventually finds some ants.

Or I could take what Lisa was offering me. A new connection to humanity. Friends. More pain and anger, and frustration, and all the things that came from being human and caring about them .

Lisa asked me, softly, “What’s the point in living forever if you’re just going to be alone?”

No point at all, really.

She reached over the little table to me, hand outstretched and palm up. “So, what do you say - can we be friends?”

I stared at her hand. I wanted to take it, and because I wanted to I didn’t. Was I letting childish desires make my decisions for me again? Had I thought things through to the end? I wanted this - to get coffee with friends, be a part of something bigger than myself. 

“It doesn’t have to be me, I guess,” Lisa continued. “But the Wards are out, unless you plan on kidnapping some of them and hoping Stockholm Syndrome sets in quick. I’ve noticed you tend to prefer people around your age, which means that your options in the Bay are basically us, Parian, and possibly Uber and Leet.” There was a smile in her voice, although I didn’t look to see it.

I didn’t have any other good choices, did I? “Okay. Friends.”

I looked up to see Lisa grinning at me, her eyes nearly closed with self-satisfaction. I pressed my lips together and glanced away, drinking the last of my now cold tea.

“Are you two done being gay together?” Alec asked. “Because if not, I’m gonna go throw up this nice muffin I just ate - thanks Lees - and then go back to base.”

“Why did you bring him, anyway?” I asked, jerking my head at Alec. I could admit to myself that I was enjoying his company and the way nothing was too serious for him to take lightly, but he seemed to get on Lisa’s nerves.

“You and him have a lot in common.” Lisa pulled back to take her drink again and crumple up the empty muffin wrapper into the paper bag. “But he was mind-fucked - ” “Hey!” “ - into what you came by naturally. And I didn’t think this would get as deep as it did.”

“Fuckin’ rude,” Alec complained. “I don’t ask you guys to sit through my sob story, do I?”

“We might if you ever felt like telling it.” Lisa replied.

He shrugged. “Nah, it’s pretty boring.”

What did being friends with her mean? It was easy to say it when I didn’t know what she expected for follow-through. Being friends with the Wards was easy, we were regular high school friends except sometimes we fought villains together.

“What do you want from me, then? I still don’t want to… be a villain.” I might have to fight the Wards at some point, and I wasn’t ready for that. I wasn’t going to be the one to betray them.

“Right now all it means is I’ll tell you where Krieg’s going to be tomorrow,” Lisa said. “And we’ll hang out, like this, and I’ll show you that it’s okay to unwind and enjoy life sometimes.”

I sat forward at the mention of my enemy. “I’m listening.”

* * *

 

“Which one?” I asked.

“See the guy in the white shirt?”

“White or like… off-white? Maybe cream?”

“No, pure white. He’s a Nazi, they have a thing for purity.”   


“I think they’re all wearing off-white. What’s the contrast on your monitor?”

“Lazarus! It’s the guy in the white shirt, black pants, and… ugh... brown shoes. If I didn’t already know he was single, that would have tipped me off.”

“What’s wrong with brown shoes?” I had a nice pair of brown shoes I used to wear to church with mom.

“With  _ black  _ pants? Are you kidding?”

I shook my head. “We’ve gotten off track. I see who you’re pointing out, are you sure that’s Krieg? He looks… normal. The one next to him looks more evil.”

“Positive. His ID wasn’t that hard to track down - for me, at least.”

I was perched on the roof of the building next to the one Krieg was in, Tattletale in a coffeeshop across the street with a laptop, in their camera system. I was probably still seeing more than her, with all the sensors I could make now.

“Oops… my PRT alert just tripped. You been moving a lot of Dust?”

I smiled to myself. “Yeah, that’s on purpose. They’re pretty predictable. What’s their ETA?”

“Hm… traffic, so probably between five and ten minutes. You know, you could’ve just called them.”

“If they’re going to fucking hunt me, I’m going to use it. I hate buying new burners.”

I could have stayed outside. It would be faster and easier, probably, to just send in enough Dust to choke him and have Coryn carry him outside; but that wouldn’t send the message.

I wanted to see the fear in his eyes as he stared down the rest of his life in the Birdcage, same as Stormtiger.

I spread the wings of my Dust cloak. “Going in.”

“Have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Tattletale chirped, and hung up.

My focus narrowed down to the window on the third floor of the office building, behind which I watched eight businessmen in a meeting, one pointing at a display behind him. Krieg was on the left side, sitting between two other white men.

My Dust in the window finished its work, expanding from within, cracking it as I dove. The glass shattered before I reached it, falling straight down instead of flying into the room. They might be Nazis who deserved to be hurt in there, or they might not; I didn’t have the time or the inclination to investigate. I was here for Krieg.

My wings flared and brought me to a stop on the edge of the window, then folded down into a mantle again.

“Krieg,” I said into the stunned silence. “Tell me you’re going to try to fight.”

Several of them started speaking at the same time, babbling their fear in tiny half-formed words. I silenced the unimportant ones, sealing their mouths with Dust.

“Shhh,” I said. “The parahumans are talking now. I’m hoping, for all of your sake, that you didn’t know before that your friend Mister Fleischer over here is Krieg, as in Empire Eighty-Eight.”

I watched their faces. Some had known or at least suspected.

I shook my head. “Disappointing. You know, all it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to stand by and do nothing. I don’t know who said that, but it sounds smart, right? Krieg, are you going to be smart?”

He found his voice. “I’d come quietly, but I don’t think you’re with the Protectorate anymore so under what authority, exactly, are you arresting me?”

“Citizen’s arrest,” I said. “On the basis of you being a patricidal piece of shit.”

“I think it’s only patricide if I killed my own father.”

“Shut the hell up.” I sent a stream of Dust down his throat, choking him. “Fuck, I was really hoping he’d try to fight me.” I glanced down at my hand, flexing it in and out of a fist. 

My sensors caught sight of the PRT trucks wailing their way through traffic, on their way. I sent more Dust to Krieg’s body, picking it up and having it follow me as I flew down to meet them.

Miss Militia was one of the first ones to step out of the truck, her weapon sheathed as a sword on her back. She put her hands on her hips and tilted her head up at me.

“Lazarus, you can’t keep doing this.”

“Nazi delivery,” I said, dropping Krieg the last two feet to the ground. He probably wouldn’t have brain damage. “Thanks for the pickup, I was going to just drop him off at the Rig until I heard you guys coming.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tattletale edging her way out of the coffee shop. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve assumed she was just an innocent bystander.

“Lazarus!” Militia drew my attention back. “Please. Come back with me. You won’t be imprisoned, you can leave at any time. We just want to talk.”

My wings stopped their rhythmic beating, holding me still in the air. I stared down at her.

“You’re a bad liar, Miss Militia.”

She sighed. The troopers had finished cuffing Krieg and were now dragging him into a truck, as he started to come around. He fought back, but then he saw me and went quiet.

“I’m not lying. There’s more to the situation than you know.”

I dropped a few feet, until I was just barely hovering above the street. “Tell me, then. Talk to me here.”

She glanced around. “This isn’t secure, Lazarus.”

“Taylor.”

“What?”

“I said, my name is Taylor. You can say it. Everyone knows.” My jaw clenched for a moment, until I pushed the anger away. “That’s the problem, right? Everybody knows. And all of them think that I broke the rules first.”

She glanced down for a moment, gathering herself. Then, “We released footage of the fight, and the official statement was already out there. The evidence backs up our version of events.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, but your video was edited and their story is so much more colorful. It’s sensational. It’s something to talk about over dinner with _ your family _ .”

She didn’t reply, just looked at me, sad and pitying. It raised my blood to a boil again, until I pushed it away.

I rose into the air again, sending Dust into the nozzles of the confoam guns the troopers pointed at me. Miss Militia didn’t give the order to spray.

She called after me, “They miss you. You could stop by just to see them, you know.”

I hesitated. It was so, so tempting.

But I’d sacrificed my dad so they wouldn’t be dragged down with me. I didn’t know it at the time, but that’s what I did. I wouldn’t let that sacrifice be in vain.

And maybe I was afraid that if I saw them again, I’d let myself be talked into something. Lisa had already showed me that my resolve wasn’t as strong as I thought it was.


	19. Wraith 3.3

When I got back to Lisa’s apartment, she was already there waiting for me.

“It’s cold,” she said as she handed me a paper cup of tea, “But you look like you need it. You know where the microwave is.”

I stuck the cup in the microwave and set the timer, then turned around and leaned on the counter to look at Lisa.

She was back in front of her high-end laptop, tapping away. She had a little USB mouse attached to it for faster use.

“Any leads on the rest of them?” I asked. “Krieg was a good catch, but Stormtiger was already on his way out when I caught up to him yesterday.”

“With Cricket dead and Hookwolf out of commission in custody, he had no reason to stay.”

“I know, and my point is the rest of them might already be out of town. Especially those two - Night and Fog? They aren’t seen much anymore, for all I know they’re already back underground.”

“Not with the Empire,” Lisa corrected absently. “They followed Purity when she left.”

My mouth dropped open. “Is there like a villain news bulletin or something? Where can I get a subscription?”

She finally looked away from her screen, glancing up at me with a smirk. “There isn’t one, but I could probably start publishing. Might make a few people pretty angry. Do you want to go after them? I think Kaiser just leaned on Purity to make her lend them out for the night, given what I overheard.”

I considered it as I retrieved my tea from the microwave. “Depends on if Purity really left the Empire or not. Armsmaster thought it was a bluff at first, then he thought it might be for real. I’d have trusted his judgement if Night and Fog hadn’t showed up that night.”

Lisa shrugged, unconcerned. “Purity isn’t hard to find when she’s out, you can ask her yourself sometime.”

I hummed and took a sip to give myself a moment to think. “You never answered me, any more leads?”

“I’ve got the rest of their civilian IDs, but they aren’t showing up in their usual places. Victor and Othala put in for 'vacations', Crusader went straight MIA. Gone to ground. Victor and Othala might be trying to make their way back to her Nazi clan to hide out with them. Crusader’s a bit of a wildcard.”

“So, you have nothing right now,” I summarized, sighing. My Dust stirred until I forcefully stopped it, absorbing more into my cloak. Being tracked because I kept fucking with air currents was annoying.

Lisa glanced at me again. “Why don’t you take a breather? I’ve got cable, watch some brain-rotting TV. No video games, though. I had to take the Playstation to the hideout to replace the one Bitch busted.”

The mention of her team put me on edge. She hadn’t brought up me joining even when I agreed we were becoming friends, but I knew that the offer was still on the table. I wasn’t ready to take it.

Even aside from the villain angle, they would just be more people to use against me, and the PRT wouldn’t care about keeping them safe.

“Gonna go take a nap,” I said instead, throwing away my now-empty cup and heading for the bedroom. It was technically Lisa’s, like everything else, but she was sleeping on the couch or back at her team’s hideout. I paused in the door, turning around and leaning against the frame. “What does your team think you’ve been doing for the past few days?”

“Helping you. Grue’s black so he’s on board with anything that fucks up the Empire more, Bitch doesn’t give a shit about anything, and Alec thinks it’s hilarious how badly this bit them in the ass.” She gave me a thoughtful look. “Actually, you should meet the rest of them - no strings attached, promise. You need to socialize more.”

“I already met Alec, and I don’t like socializing that much.”

“You aren’t good at it,” she corrected, “But you do enjoy it on your own terms.”

I scowled, realizing she was probably right. Hanging out with the Wards was fun when I forgot to feel pressured to act 'the right way'.

“All I’m saying is I’ve got a good group. We’ve all got damage, nobody’s going to push you on anything. You liked Alec, right?”

“It seems kind of dumb to want to associate with me when the PRT is hunting me,” I pointed out. I realized that this was an even better point than I’d originally meant and added, “In fact, if I was going to join the Undersiders, you guys would be like public enemies number one. They’d think I told you hero identities as insurance.”

Tattletale smirked. “Yeah, like I couldn’t figure them out on my own. All I’d have to do is show them that I’m the one who tracked down the Empire for you, and they’d realize I didn’t _need_ you to out them.”

“That would just call _more_ attention to you.”

“Maybe I like attention,” she boasted, grinning at me.

I snorted. “You’ve been doing a good job of laying low then.”

“My boss prefers it that way. Sometimes I do, too… but sometimes having eyes on you protects you.”

The idea of being watched, constantly, made me shudder. Every secret exposed. I changed the subject. “What boss? First time you’ve mentioned that.”

“The Undersiders have a… patron, I suppose you’d call him. He funds us, sometimes gives us jobs, he’s actually the one who put the team together.”

“He have a name?”

“Not one I’m allowed to share.”

“I can really feel that friendly trust right now.” I said, unimpressed.

“I’m literally _not allowed_.”

I almost accepted it. I almost rolled my eyes, turned around, and laid down for the nap I’d said I wanted.

But I remembered _daring_ Miss Militia to ask me for my bullies’ names, and I remembered sitting across from my dad at dinner with my tongue tied in knots praying that this time, when I said ‘fine’, he wouldn’t believe me. Praying for a magic solution.

I took a step forward, out of the doorway. “What do you mean not allowed?”

Lisa’s gaze remained fixed on the laptop in front of her, but her mouth was moving, whispering. I formed a sensor next to her.

“ _Not here, he knows about this place now, he might have it bugged. Later._ ” Finally she looked up, meeting my eyes with a false smile. “I mean he’s a very private benefactor, not even my team’s met him. If I go around telling people about him, I’ll lose his support.”

My blood felt cold. Was this because of me? She was my friend for a day and already someone was threatening her to get to me?

No, this was a long-term benefactor, wasn’t it? She’d said he was the Undersider’s patron, so that meant he funded the team and they’d been together for months, at least. This wasn’t because of me… but it was something I could help with. Some way to repay her for helping me track down the Empire.

“...Okay,” I said at length. I didn’t feel like taking a nap anymore. “Know what, I think I do want to meet your team. You should set that up.”

 _Subtle_ , she mouthed at me, eyes narrowed. Out loud, “How about tonight? I’ll text Grue, see if the rest of them are up for it.”

“Yeah, do that,” I nodded, and then sat down on the couch next to her. “Where’s the TV remote?”

* * *

 

Lisa went ahead of me, ‘to smooth the way,’ she said. I wasn’t sure if that was for my benefit, theirs, or hers. She told me to look for the Redmond Welding building, and I could easily confirm that it was the correct one; it was the one that my sensor found her in.

There were three other people there, a butch-looking girl with three dogs attendant on her every word, Alec, and a dark-skinned guy a bit older than me. I resisted the impulse to make more sensors and rotate them around the black guy appreciatively. He was attractive, but I had neither the time nor the inclination to follow through. They were all in civilian clothes, no masks or costumes in sight.

I moved some Dust across Lisa’s bare forearms, alerting her that I was nearly there. I kept walking, my pace purposeful but not rushed. Some people had seen me on the way here through the Docks, and then quickly looked away when they realized I was wearing a domino mask.

It was as Lisa had told me; people didn’t fuck with people in masks, just in case. It might be a kid with more bravado than sense, or it might be a cape, and only the stupid or desperate took the chance.

Nobody saw me step up and rap twice on the metal door.

“That’s her,” Lisa said inside.

“No shit? I thought it was the pizza I ordered, five more minutes and I get it for free. Bitch, go make sure my delivery guy is late.” That was Alec, of course.

“Fuck off,” Bitch snarled, glaring at the door.

Grue opened the door and looked me up and down. After a moment he said, “Welcome to the nut house,” and stood aside to let me in.

I nodded at him, stepping inside. He led me up a spiral staircase from the desolated first floor to the furnished second one.

“Welcome to the hideout,” Lisa greeted me, sweeping her arm around to indicate the big room. “What do you think? It’s very ‘my first apartment’, isn’t it? That’s mostly Alec, he was never taught to clean up after himself.”

I nodded, unsure what to say. Alec was sitting in front of their flatscreen, playing some video game; Bitch was in a cleared section of floor with her dogs, where she had been putting them through their paces with a handful of treats but was now staring at me with hostility. Grue moved over to the open kitchen, ducking to check on a pan in the oven.

“Grue makes food for us sometimes,” Lisa continued, patting the stool next to her to indicate that I should sit there. There were four stools set under the overhanging countertop of the island in the kitchen, a little breakfast bar. “It’s good practice.”

“Enchiladas tonight,” Grue said, standing back up. “Done in a few minutes, looks like.” He looked at me, mouth twisted thoughtfully, and then held out one hand. “I’m Brian.”

“Taylor,” I said, although I was sure he knew already. I shook his hand.

“You already met Alec, and that’s Rachel,” Brian nodded at Bitch. “We’re trusting you on Tattletale’s say-so, but I trust her so if she says you’re cool… then I guess you are.”

I said, “I’m very good with secrets.”

Brian smiled slightly, and moved away to get a stack of plates out of a cabinet.

“Dinner?” Alec called out, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“I’m not your mother.”

“You’d make an ugly chick, anyway.” Alec paused the game and stood up, stretching. “What’s up, Lazarus? Long time no see. Heard you got another Nazi.”

“Call me Taylor,” I said. “And yeah, I did. Just three to go now.”

“Speaking of,” Lisa said, reaching out to put a finger on a piece of notebook paper across the island and slide it to me. “Here, it’s my best guess about Victor and Othala. I got into their accounts, I think they’re going to be at this Empire safehouse waiting for pickup from one of Othala’s clan. They’ve been moving around trying to throw off the Protectorate _and_ me, not that they know about the last bit.”

“The Protectorate?” I said, surprised.

“C’mon, they outed a _Ward_ ,” Lisa said. “The Protectorate put Watchdog on the hunt like ten minutes after that site went up. Did you think they were keeping Stormtiger and Krieg in custody on your evidence alone? You got there first, but the Protectorate was right behind you. In fact, I got this info piggybacking off of theirs. They don’t know where Victor and Othala are _going_ to be, of course, they’re not as good as me,” she smirked. “But they found the last two safehouses.”

I hadn’t thought about it, but now that I did it wasn’t really surprising. The unwritten rules only applied to the people who followed them, and the Empire had unequivocally broken them. It was open season on Empire capes, civilian identities or no. And they already had a lead on Victor because of the shooting on the Boardwalk.

“Hey, Lisa,” I frowned. “Did you hear about the sniper on the Boardwalk a while ago? While I was on patrol there?”

“‘Course I did. Did Clockblocker really second trigger there, or did you take him to Panacea quick? All the cameras saw was you rushing off with him, and the personnel files are way more protected than the things I usually try to get into.”  
I opened my mouth to answer, and then rethought my instinct to answer. “No comment, actually. Victor was the sniper, but we could never really figure out why. You have any ideas?”

“Maybe they were jealous of another immortal cape in the Bay,” Alec volunteered. He pulled a can of soda out of the fridge and cracked it open, then sat down on Lisa’s other side. “When’s food?”

“You aren’t going to offer _our guest_ something to drink?” Lisa chided him. He flipped her off, and she rolled her eyes. Turning back to me she said, “You fought with the Empire the day before and captured Rune, right? Did any of them see you resurrect then?”

“One minute now,” Brian said to Alec, pulling a can out of the fridge. “Taylor, you want anything? We got soda, PBR, milk, water.”

“Water’s fine. Yeah, Hookwolf killed me a couple times. Not on purpose at first, then he realized it wasn’t sticking.” Brian slid a bottle of water across the island to me.

Lisa nodded slowly. “Then I think what happened is that got reported to Kaiser, who passed it down the line to Gesellschaft. They already have Alabaster, so they know what a loyal immortal cape can do, and you’re way more powerful than him anyway. If Gesellschaft is interested in kidnapping immortal capes, they might want proof before they act on any intel.”

“So… they shot _Clockblocker_?” I asked, incredulous. “We look nothing alike! Victor said it was a bad scope, which sounds like a lot of bullshit to me.”

Her head tilted and she raised one finger. “Can’t say for sure. It would have to be a night-vision scope given how dark it was, and some of those wash out colors. There would definitely be something attached to the scope to record what it sees, as proof. This is all, of course, assuming my theory is correct. I’m running on almost no information, except that I do know that Gesellschaft wanted you and they had to have some reason.”

I twisted the cap off my water and drank. When I was done, I screwed it back on and pressed the cold plastic to my forehead. “This is all so fucking stupid. I’ve had my powers for a month, I had friends for like three weeks, and then some Nazis came along and fucked it all up. Are there time-travel powers?”

Lisa patted me on the back, sympathetic. “Hey, if there were, I bet you would have gotten some.”

“Yeah, no bitching, lottery girl,” Alec chimed in. “Fuck, Brian, that smells amazing. You’re gonna make someone a good little housewife someday.”

“I can and will throw yours into the garbage,” Brian said. “And you can starve.”

“I mean… thank you? You’re a very nice, manly man.”

“Better.” Brian, hands gloved in red oven mitts, set the pan of enchiladas down on a matching potholder on the island.

There were five enchiladas and five people in this loft. I couldn’t remember what the last thing I’d eaten was.

“Mmm, food,” Alec said, inhaling deeply over the steaming red sauce.

Brian reached out and shoved his head back, heel of his palm to Alec’s forehead, tilting it up to meet his eyes. “It’s your turn to do the dishes. You eat, you have to clean.”

Alec scowled at him, and seemed to be seriously contemplating starving to get out of work.

“I can do the dishes,” I offered, surprising even myself. Coryn reached out and picked up one of the plates to demonstrate. “It goes pretty fast with all the hands I can make.”

“You don’t have to do that, it’s his turn,” Brian pointed at a chore chart stuck to the fridge with magnets. It looked like they rotated duties, except that Rachel’s assigned task was ‘Vacuuming’ and nothing else.

“It’s really easy for me, and he really doesn’t look like he wants to do it.”

We both looked at Alec, who had taken advantage of Brian’s distraction to grab the spatula and scoop his portion onto a plate. He licked a stray drop of sauce off the rim of his plate, saw us looking, and gave me a thumbs-up. “C’mon, she _wants_ to do it.”

“You’re still helping her,” Brian grumbled, snatching the spatula back.

As he served out the rest on plates, I sat there and thought. I’d accepted Lisa’s invitation because I wanted to meet these people, who were working for the person who was threatening her. They didn’t act like people under duress, but then neither did she. Did they know? Were they a part of it? Were they spies for the patron, or were they also being controlled?

Alec, I figured, probably was neither. If what Lisa told me was correct, he didn’t care enough about anything to be controlled - he was on the path that I’d stepped off of when I took Lisa’s hand. He didn’t seem to mind it, but I didn’t want to be there.

Brian was the leader; if anyone was working directly for their patron, keeping an eye on Lisa, it was him. But I didn’t sense deception, or any cunning malice. I hoped that wasn’t me seeing his build and mistaking him for a meathead type of guy, but I didn’t believe he was hiding that much of himself.

Rachel was just quiet. She came over to grab a plate and retreated to her room, dogs in a cluster at her heels the whole time, and didn’t say a word to me.

“Don’t mind her,” Brian said, using the side of his fork to cut into his food. “She’s just like that with everyone. She wasn’t too psyched about you coming over here.”

“Why not?” I asked, taking a bite. “This is really good, by the way.”

“Thanks,” he said, one side of his mouth turning up. “She’s not really fond of heroes. Her identity is public and she was on the run for a while, they kept trying to capture her. And since you were a hero...” He trailed off, waving his fork. “Don’t worry about it.”

I didn’t like the way he said I was a hero. “I’m not a villain,” I said. Then I remembered I had killed a few people. “Well… I’m not trying to be one. I guess you could say I’m a vigilante now.”

Brian raised one eyebrow; Alec leaned around Lisa to looked at me. Even Lisa looked dubious.

“Keeping weird company for a vig,” Brian said dryly.

“She’s undercover,” Alec said simply. “Gonna blow our whole op wide open. Did anyone check this chick for a wire? Shit.”

“A vigilante in the sense that I’m going to be taking down _certain_ villains,” I clarified. “Sorry, but you guys don’t qualify.”

“I think I should be offended,” Alec announced.

“Given what Lisa’s told us about her powers, you should be thankful,” Brian told him.

“Oooh, I’m so scared,” Alec rolled his eyes. “She’s only killed like two people - ” “Five.” “ - whatever. Even the Nazis are only getting handed over to the police.”

“If you get caught we’re not breaking your ass out of jail,” Lisa said.

“Fuck you, yes you are. Three-man ops are way harder than four-man.”

“For once, he has a point.”

I stood up, pushing the stool back from my half-finished meal. “Sorry,” I said, “I have to. Go. Get some air.”

I fled, down the spiral stairs and out into the cold night. The door closed silently on oiled hinges, and I leaned against the rough brickwork.

“Does this mean I’m doing the dishes again?” Alec asked. Brian reached out and slapped him upside the head.

It was a strange feeling. I wouldn’t call it sadness, and I definitely wasn’t happy, but it was overwhelming all the same. It was so easy to sit there and let them bicker around me, they were friends with each other the way the Wards were, and they were fine with letting an interloper sit and watch. I could even join in, if I liked. There were no high stakes, I felt no pressure to act like someone normal and make them like me. 

It was the same as what I had had but _better_ , and it was too much. I should never have taken Lisa’s offer to meet them.

The door opened again, emitting Lisa. She saw me immediately, and bit her lip.

“Hey,” she murmured, coming closer. Not too close. “You okay?”

“What do they want?” I asked, my eyes closed. Not that it helped; I had dozens more eyes, none of them with lids.

“My team? ...They want the normal stuff. Food, shelter, money, security.”

I opened my eyes to shoot her a withering look. She knew full well what I meant. “I mean, what do they want _from me_ . Why are they being…” I waved a hand at the door, unable to finish. _Friendly_.

People weren’t friendly for no reason. The Wards were forced together by the PRT and Protectorate, so they didn’t really have a choice. The choices were _get along_ or _suffer_. I couldn’t help wondering what Lisa had promised the Undersiders in return for being nice to me. If she’d told them I was going to join their team eventually, they were all going to be disappointed.

“You didn’t have a problem with me being friendly,” Lisa pointed out.

“I thought you were… interested.” And I had been willing to use it as long as I didn’t have to _do_ anything about it. “And I also thought you wanted to get me on your side.”

“How is that different? If they’re being friendly to get you to come over to the darkside, how’s that different from what you thought I was doing?”

_Because this time it might work._

“Oh. I see.”

I didn’t feel like I had to perform normalcy around Lisa or Alec. Lisa would know that it was a performance, and Alec didn’t seem to care. Brian put up with both of them, which said he had a high tolerance for my kind of weirdness, and it helped that he wasn’t hard to look at. Rachel seemed to be the Sophia of their group, but as long as she didn’t attack me I didn’t care.

What if I’d never become a Ward? What would my life be like if I’d met these people first?

Would my dad still be alive?

_It doesn’t matter. I am where I am. Deal with reality first._

“I didn’t bring you here to win you over,” Lisa said, gentle. “I just thought you needed more connections, more friends. We both know what you could be, what you were becoming, when you didn’t have any.”

“And they want to be my friends for that reason, too? People aren’t that selfless, Lisa.”

“So don’t think of it as selfless. Look for a selfish reason for them to want to keep you connected.”

I supposed that I would be pretty dangerous to just about everyone if I decided to stop caring about humans. Put it like that and really everyone should want to be my friend. I smiled.

“See?” Lisa grinned at me.

“I let you talk to me too much,” I said. “I always wind up agreeing with you by the end of it.”

“That’s because I’m always right.”

“And so humble, too.” My chest had loosened, my Dust settled calmly around me. Perhaps that was why I always let her talk for too long; I usually came out of it feeling better than I went in.

My attention was drawn up and toward the edge of my range, where a sensor had picked up a sudden bright movement. I looked closer at the brightly glowing human form, skimming low over the rooftops. 

“What is it?” Lisa asked.

“Want to talk some more?” I replied. “I found Purity.”


	20. Wraith 3.4

Tattletale ran back inside to get changed, while I shifted from one foot to the other impatiently. She only took about three minutes, but it was long enough for me to lose sight of Purity.

“Don’t scream, and don’t worry - I won’t drop you.” I said to her.

I didn’t give her time to respond, forming a Dust suit around her like I was wearing. Hopefully it would protect her in case this turned bad. I flew us both after Purity, abandoning my usual methods of camouflaging my Dust in favor of haste. This wouldn’t be a long talk, hopefully.

I formed a sensor to look at Tattletale’s expression. Her mask somehow seemed to alter the shape of her face, so that it was almost like looking at a different person. It made her features sharper, her smile more cruel. I knew that because she was grinning, and it didn’t look nice.

“Having fun?” I asked from a small Coryn next to her.

“Sometimes I wished I’d gotten a flying power,” she replied, spreading her arms out to either side. “Why don’t I feel any wind?”

“I’ve got Dust all over you.” I could feel every movement she made, every breath as her chest expanded and pushed against the suit. “I’m hoping it will be a kind of protection from Purity, if we need it.”

“Probably won’t, but thanks anyway.”

I caught sight of Purity again, hovering just below the profile of several of the buildings around her. She was blasting into one of the old warehouses that used to house shipments coming to and from the Docks, and various Asian men were beginning to spill out of the doors. She was hitting the ABB.

I sent Dust ahead of us, creating a whipping wind vortex around her for a moment to announce our presence. Purity’s lasers cut off, halving the light in the area, and she twisted around searching for the source of the strange wind. Eventually she spotted us, although we were dark silhouettes against a nearly-dark sky.

I waved and put both hands up, trying to signal that I just wanted to talk. If Tattletale told me that she was still with the Empire, that she had been in on my father’s kidnapping and death, I wouldn’t hesitate to break that truce.

Then I remembered - “Wait, I thought you didn’t want me and your villain name to be associated.”

“Bit late now,” Tattletale observed. “Anyway, if this goes how I think it will, it’ll be fine. Purity’s a solo agent, I’m almost sure of it.”

She wasn’t wrong. Purity was in auditory range, and didn’t look like she wanted to come closer.

“Are you Lazarus?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest.

“I am. I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what the Empire did, I assume. Who’s that with you?”

“Just a friend,” Tattletale said, waving.

“Fine.” Purity turned her full attention back to me. “What do you want to say? Or ask?”

“Did you know?” I asked. Point-blank and blunt.

“Kaiser asked me to get Night and Fog to help him out with a mission that night. He didn’t say what the mission was, or what he was going to be using them for. The first thing I knew of what happened to you was when someone I work with texted me about the website.”

“Kaiser had some dirt or hold over her, she hated having to do him a favor,” Tattletale said. “She’s telling the truth about not knowing the plan ahead of time, but someone’s filled her in since then.”

My jaw clenched. I forcefully uncurled my fingers from a fist. “For someone who claims to have left them, it sounds like you’re still pretty friendly with the Empire.”

“Krieg visited me… right after Kaiser died. He wanted me to help them, I said no. I’m not stupid.” She was drifting ever so slightly backward in response to my anger. “He told me that Kaiser’s plan was to capture you and retreat to Europe, since they couldn’t stay here.”

Because they’d unmasked me; they would be unmasked and hunted down in return. I had no sympathy or pity.

Purity was watching Tattletale. “...Krieg also told me that it wasn’t them that leaked your civilian ID.”

“Bullshit. Kaiser had my dad, I _saw_ him.” My voice cracked, surprising me. “I saw him.”

“Yeah, he admitted they took your dad. He just said they didn’t post the site.”

It was stupid, and confusing, and it didn’t matter right now. They might not have posted the information, but they sure as hell took advantage of it.

I didn’t think she was lying, and Tattletale hadn’t called her out on anything else. It was good enough. She could continue being a Nazi hero as long as I didn’t have to look at her.

“Fine. I believe you, I won’t come after you. See you around, Purity.” I moved us both down, preparing to duck between some buildings and lose sight of her before we went back to the Undersiders’ base.

“Wait!” She dropped as well, one hand stretched out. Dust swirled between us, unseen by everyone but me, creating a thick wall. It wasn’t an attack, though. “I know you’re going after the rest of the Empire. They might even deserve it. Where are you going to stop, though?”

I frowned. “What do you mean?” I was, clearly, stopping at her.

“I mean… if Kaiser had a son. Or a d-daughter. Are they safe?”

It was an easy enough decision. “I don’t give a shit about what his kids did, as long as they aren’t capes in the Empire, and they don’t come after me first. I’m letting you go, aren’t I?”

She shined too brightly to tell, but it sounded like she was smiling when she said, “That’s all I needed to know. Thank you.” and flew away.

* * *

 

That hadn’t been a long conversation, but I was still itching to put Tattletale back with her friends and go somewhere to be alone, perhaps take that nap I’d put off earlier. And then I saw it through a sensor.

“What is it?” Tattletale asked, her eyes narrowing. “Lazarus? What’s wrong?”

“It’s… it’s….” It was dark, and I wanted to say that I couldn’t be sure, but I was sure. And it didn’t make any sense. “I think it’s….”

She was moving fast, of course she was - she was one of the fastest flyers. She was in earshot when I finally managed to stutter out, “Alexandria?”

And it was her: dark costume, helmet and half-face visor, cape flaring out behind her as she came to a stop floating upright before us.

“Lazarus?” Alexandria said. “Taylor Hebert?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” I said, trying to calm the nervous flutter in my chest. What was Alexandria doing in Brockton Bay?

I remembered that I hadn’t disguised my flight over here, that the Protectorate probably tracked me most of the way. Instead of a PRT team or some heroes, I got Alexandria. They sent her?

“And this would be…” Alexandria was looking at Tattletale, who I moved slightly behind me. She was a villain, after all.

“Don’t worry about her, she’s just a friend.”

I wasn’t quite worried that Alexandria would be able to forcefully bring me in when no one else could. Perhaps if they sent Eidolon he’d whip out a power to counter me somehow, but Alexandria was just strong, invulnerable, and mobile. She wasn’t bringing anything new or surprising to the fight.

So it made me wonder why she was here at all. Were they banking on her reputation, that I would respect her?

“You know, we could have had this meeting in a more comfortable setting,” Alexandria said. Her tone was friendly. “If you’d accepted Miss Militia’s invitation. I’ve been wanting to meet you, Lazarus.”

 _This_ was what Miss Militia was trying to say to me before? “I’d rather not walk into any more potential traps. I’m here now. What do you want?” That came off a little bit blunter than I meant, so I added, “I mean, you’re not just here for me… right?”

“That’s exactly why I’m here, actually.” Because her visor didn’t cover her mouth, I saw Alexandria smile. “It was an awful thing that happened to you, Lazarus. If there was more time, if it all hadn’t happened so fast, we might have met in the middle of things. I’m sorry that it had to happen like this.”

The reminder stung. It felt like she was rubbing it in my face that if I hadn’t split off and acted rashly my dad might still be alive. Maybe she was right, or maybe nothing could have saved him. I didn’t have a precognitive power. I said nothing, turning my thoughts to how I could escape her if she didn’t want to let me go.

“I know you probably feel like you don’t have very many options right now,” I’d say too many options, more like. Once my current goal was complete, I’d have to find something else. “So I’m here to prove to you how serious I am when I say that you still have this one. You can come back to the Protectorate.”

My attention jerked back to her, shocked. She nodded.

“You can be a Ward again. No extra restrictions, no punishment. I think you’ve learned your lesson from all of this, haven’t you?”

I shunted all emotion away before it could touch me, leaving me with one thought: _How dare she_.

“I’m offering you a place with the Los Angeles Wards, directly under my command. If LA isn’t to your liking, I can get you into the New York or Houston teams. Unfortunately a lot of your bridges have been burnt here in the Bay.”

I might have been tempted if I hadn’t already decided against another Wards team. The friends I’d made were here, and they were the only draw I had back to yoking myself under someone else’s control again.

I shook my head. “No. I joined the Wards for my dad, not because I really wanted to be a Ward. I still don’t really want to be one.”

“Hm.” Alexandria put one hand on her hip, thoughtful. “Okay. Pick one of the Wards here, and we’ll transfer him or her with you.”

The Dust rippled around me in startled waves. “I… is this a joke?”

“I am completely serious. Reading your file, the report of what’s happened in this city, I knew instantly that I wanted to meet you, Taylor. You have so much potential. I would hate to see it wasted on something so petty as villainy or vigilantism.”

I became aware of movement from Tattletale, who up until now had been uncharacteristically silent. She had both hands behind her back, completely out of Alexandria’s sightline, and through my Dust I sensed the position of her fingers. She had both pointers extended and crossed over each other, tapping them together in an urgent little X sign.

“I have to think about this,” I said to Alexandria, feeling a bit dumbstruck. Thoughts were chasing each other around my head, _man they really want me back_ circling around _what game are they playing_.

I’d once thought to myself that law and order bend down for power when you have enough of it. I’d never imagined that I would be the one with that much power.

“Of course. It’s a lot to think about. Talk it over with your… friend. I’ll be in town for a few days, looking into this blow-up. You could find me at the PHQ, or you can call this number.” She smiled again as she flicked a dark gray square at me; I caught it with some Dust. A business card, on thick, almost plastic-like paper. “By the way… check your messages on PHO. Your friends have been trying to get in touch with you.”

I let myself and Tattletale fall to the ground as she rose up and headed back for the Rig, my sensors tracking her until I lost sight against the dark sky. She was gone.

I turned to Tattletale. “What the _fuck_ was that?”

* * *

Tattletale released a shaky breath and leaned up against the rough concrete wall of an empty office building. “Holy shit,” she said, softly, and looked at me and repeated, “Holy _shit_.”

“I know!” I said, looking down at the card. It was probably big enough to hide some Tinkertech tracking device, so I memorized the number on it and then shipped it off with some Dust, to the edge of my range.

“No! Not even that. I knew you were a big deal, anyone with your powers would be, but this is… this is something else. They want you, _bad_.”

“I _know_!” I said again. There didn’t seem to be anything else to say.

“You _don’t_ ,” she insisted. “Well… maybe you do a little. But it’s bigger than that. That was her _opening offer_. That was her  _low-balling_ it.”

I knew enough about negotiation to realize that that was significant. “You mean you think I could get more?” The Protectorate already sent Alexandria in person, already offered me the Wards and to transfer someone with me, which as far as I knew was unheard of.

Dennis? No, his father was here on a long-term wait list for Panacea, he wouldn’t move. Carlos had a massive extended family, he wouldn’t uproot his parents and couldn’t uproot the whole tree. Missy… had an awful home life, from what I knew. She’d probably take the chance to change it up.

Was that worth it?

Why did they think _I_ was worth that?

“What am I missing?” I asked Tattletale. “I know I’m powerful, but I don’t think I’m _that_ powerful. I’m just… resilient. I’m a Brute with a good Master power. I’m not Eidolon.”

Tattletale tipped her head back to rest against the wall, staring up at the sky. Light-pollution from the city meant that we couldn’t see any stars, although if she wanted to I supposed I could take her high enough.

At length she asked me, “Lazarus, how does your resurrection work? What, specifically, happens during it?”

I bit my lip and rocked back and forth on my feet for a moment. The PRT already knew, though, so it didn’t really matter if I told her. “New Dust gets created around me and it forms into these ribbons that wrap up my body like a mummy. If I’m missing an arm or something, and it’s not close enough to drag it over and reattach it, the ribbons wrap around nothing in the shape of my arm. They do this… squeeze thing, then melt together, then release and vanish. Sometimes there’s a bit left over that I can keep with my usual Dust. When it’s done, I come back to life.”

“Would it be off-base to say that your Dust is what really brings you back to life?”

“No… I guess I’ve always known that it’s the Dust doing it. I don’t know how, though. I try not to control it when it’s resurrecting me.”

Tattletale raked her hands through her hair, nails tracking along her scalp. “Ugh! I wish I could see your damn Dust.”

She reminded me of Captain’s Hill, when I was sure that the humans with Kaiser could see my Dust minions. “Maybe you can.” I’d never tried to make it visible before, had I? Armsmaster hadn’t even asked if I could, focusing on other methods of detection and assuming that it was permanently invisible.

I gathered a handful of it, a little ball just big enough to hear through. I concentrated, separating my feeling of it down into each individual unit. Tiny enough to pass through solid objects, too small for even me to see until I put enough of them together. But they _could_ be seen. Was that an aspect of me, or an aspect of my power? Did I really see my Dust, or did my sense of it just tell me that I did?

How had the humans seen my Dust? What was different? If it was my anger, wouldn’t more people have seen flickers of my minion? Was it their terror? Was it the heavy weight of a recent death in the air?

“Tattletale, do you trust me?” I asked, not looking up from the ball in my hand.

“With what?”

“I think I can let you see my Dust, but you’ll have to trust me - well, you don’t have to, I guess. But it’ll be easier if you do.”

“Taylor, just tell me what you want to do.”

Coryn stepped up next to me and pushed Tattletale gently against the wall. Dust crept through her open mouth, down her throat. “Do you trust me not to kill you?”

Tattletale stared at me, her eyes wide. I felt her heart beating like a rabbit’s, her breath coming fast. Eventually she rasped, “Yes.”

I closed her throat, and she choked.

 _One mississippi, two mississippi…_ She’d hyperventilated a bit right before, so I had to account for her blood being over-oxygenated. She was near enough to my build to use my own baseline. I listened to her heart and watched her eyelids flutter in panic, as she reached out and grabbed a handful of Coryn’s feathers and shoved weakly against her.

Now.

I released her and she sucked in a rattling gasp of air, staring between Coryn and me. I nodded and said, “Now, watch this.”

Another Coryn wrapped her wings around my neck and pulled up, snapping it. My body fell to the ground like a marionette with broken strings, where both of my minions rearranged me so I was lying on my back. Dust seeped in through cracks in the world.

It wasn’t the first time I tried to look through to where my Dust was coming from, but it had been a while. I was changed, a completely different person from the girl who came back to life in the ocean, blood staining the water around her. I looked with new eyes.

At first I thought there was _nothing_ , which was the same as I’d thought before. But I kept looking, staring, until it all shifted into focus like a Magic Eye picture. I wasn’t seeing the trees because of the forest. It wasn’t nothing; it was _nothing but Dust_ , and I couldn’t control it until it passed over.

The cracks closed, and I came gasping back to life.

Tattletale was standing stock-still, eyes closed. I hoped that she’d seen at least a little of it before her near-death experience wore off.

After a moment of awkward silence, I turned my head and scratched at the nape of my neck. “Um… sorry about almost killing you.”

“It’s fine,” she said faintly. “That’s not - my power gives me migraines when I use it too much, or when I use for something really difficult. Watching that was like driving an ice pick into my eye sockets.”

“Yeah, eye stuff really hurts,” I sympathized. She cracked one eye open to glare at me with it. “What? I was trying to see if I could fix my eyesight with a reset. They came back just as near-sighted as always.”

“Fucking…” she trailed off. “Alright. Okay. I have a theory, and it’s a doozy. You ready?”

My eyebrows went up. “It’s my power. Yeah, I’m ready.”

“I think the resurrection process is inherent to your Dust, not to the rest of your power,” she began.

“Yeah, I could have told you that.”

“Hold on. I mean that’s what Dust is _for_. It brings you back. The way you use it, isn’t what it’s meant for.”

I remained quiet this time. What she said didn’t feel right, but I couldn’t quantify why.

“Okay, so think about a different power. Think about a Master power that gives a cape telekinetic control over - I don’t know - sand. So they could wrap sand around something and use that to lift it up, and it looks like regular telekinesis, but really the sand is the medium.”

I nodded. “Following you so far. Sand is Dust.”

“But the cape doesn’t make sand, and mimicking telekinesis isn’t what sand is really for. The sand was always there, doing its thing, until a cape with the right power came along to control it. This is where my metaphor falls apart… sand doesn’t really do anything.”

“I’m sure it’s an important part of several ecosystems,” I said.

“Yeah. Well, like the sand, your Dust was just doing its thing before you triggered with the ability to control it. You’re not supposed to. It’s supposed to just be chilling on a metaphorical beach, but you came along with the right power.”

“This is pretty interesting,” I said. “But I don’t see why it makes Alexandria want me back in the Wards so badly. So what if Dust comes from someplace else, not made by me?”

“It matters because - and I was getting to this before you derailed me - of what Dust does in its inert, uncontrolled state. Unlike sand, it doesn’t just lay around on a beach. It _brings you back to life_.”

I knew I was only halfway to understanding her meaning. Dust brings me back to life; I knew and understood that in a place deeper than my bones, in my soul if you believe in such a thing. Knowing that it did that even in the absence of a power was new, but I didn’t see the connection Tattletale obviously did.

She continued, “So if we accept that Dust exists outside of your parahuman power, and it brings you back to life, then it might be able to do the same thing for other people. Like there are certain people in the world who the Dust attaches to for some reason, and if they die, they get resurrected by Dust.”

_There could be more like me?_

“But there’s more. That’s what makes you unique, but it just makes you a Brute until you factor in the Master aspect. You control Dust. You control the - the resurrection particle.” _No_. “Taylor, you might be able to bring _other_ people back to life.”

Three gunshots echoed in my head. Blood spilled down a plain white undershirt.

_I could have saved him?_


	21. Wraith 3.5

Tattletale and I walked back, myself in something of a daze. Was she right? It seemed impossible.

“You coming up?” she asked as we neared her team’s base again.

“Don’t want to,” I said. I looked into the building, finding Alec on the sofa in front of the television and Bitch in her room, brushing out one of the dogs. Brian was gone, and there were dirty dishes in the sink. I formed Coryn in their kitchenette and set to work.

“Alright. We didn’t really get to talk about what I wanted to tell you, but we can save it for another night. You have enough to think about.” Tattletale smiled, her mask hiding the way it usually made her eyes crinkle at the corners. 

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Like, I get how you figured it out… but how do _they_ know?”

She shrugged. “They have this think-tank of Thinker powers called Watchdog, and more resources than even _I_ know about. Maybe there really are more people like you, and they know about them.”

 _More like me_ , I thought again. If there were, did I want to know them? Would they _really_ be like me, or would I be strange even to another immortal?

“I’ll come by the apartment tomorrow.” Tattletale said.

“See you then.”  
Alec had finally realized the clack of glassware and running water wasn’t a part of his show, and turned around to see, from his point of view, a sponge scrubbing the enchilada pan by itself.

“Huh,” he said. “Hope that’s you, Lazarus.” He turned back around.

* * *

 

I usually don’t remember my dreams, but that night I didn’t want to be conscious; I wanted to knock out, be fully out of my own head and thoughts for the first time since the locker. The same way I shunted my emotions out in to my Dust, I shunted myself back into my brain, which was hallucinating vividly.

I was aware and unaware at the same time, half of me in the dream following dream logic while the other half stood back, behind a pane of glass, watching with the full conscious knowledge that I was in a dream. The conscious part of me knew that I could step in and begin to affect the dream at any time, but it didn’t care to. I was here to escape, not to meddle.

A dream of flying over the coastline of Brockton Bay in search of towels faded out into pleasant nothingness as I went through another sleep cycle. The next thing to fade in was familiar, although I couldn’t place why at first.

I was in the back seat of the old family car, buckled in on the passenger side. Rain beat down hard on the roof and windows, reducing visibility to almost nothing on the road, just blurs of headlights and flashing red hazard lights.

“Son of a bitch,” mom said as she twitched the wheel away from someone speeding so fast in the opposite lane that it rocked our car. “Sorry - don’t repeat that, honey. You’d think people would know better than to _drive like that!_ ” she shouted the last few words. I couldn’t even make out the faded lines on the road.

_Where are we going? Where’s dad?_

As if on cue, my dream-self asked grumpily, “How long until we get home? I want to call Emma.”

“Oh, _her_ you can call,” mom said, sarcastic. “I wouldn’t have come to pick you up if you’d answered my calls, or my texts. The plan was that if you didn’t call before three, I’d come pick you up. Well, missy, it’s far past three. I drove out once, I’m not going back home alone just to come back in a few hours.”

“Mom!” I complained.

I remembered by this point, of course, but it was wrong. It didn’t happen like this. She was on her way to pick me up from the Barnes’ when it happened, so why was I in the car?

“Don’t even start with me, Taylor!” mom said, turning her head away from the road for a moment to look at me. The lines between the lanes were washed out with gray pounding rain.

“MOM!”

A horn blared in front of us, headlights leaving bright smears across my vision as an oncoming car swerved wildly. Even from behind glass I could barely keep track; either mom had drifted or someone else had, and in slow motion the car was sliding, fishtailing across the road. As though it had been planned, we slid between two more cars with an inch to spare and finally stopped on the shoulder, facing the opposite direction from where we had been going but with the flow of traffic.

Mom slapped the hazard light button at the same time her other hand undid her own seatbelt. “Taylor? Honey, Taylor? Taylor!”

“I’m fine!” I said quickly, my breath coming in quick gasps that threatened to spill over into nervous laughter or outright crying. “I’m okay, mom, I’m okay!”

“Oh my god, Taylor,” mom shoved herself between the seats into the back, reached out and put her hands on either side of my face, kissing me on the forehead. “Oh my god.”

What kind of sick trick was my subconscious trying to play on me? Replaying the circumstances of my mom’s death with a few details altered, showing me how she could have been saved?

The me behind the glass stepped out of the car into the pouring rain. Two other cars had stopped and pulled over, one driver already halfway out of his seat. A bright red truck rolled past at a crawl, lights flashing.

_No, that’s not right._

I turned back to mom and the younger me. I was staring over mom’s shoulder as she hugged me, and I met my own eyes.

“You should leave,” I said.

“I think I should stay,” I replied.

“You didn’t want to know about this.”

“I do now.”

“Suit yourself,” I shrugged. I looked back at mom, batting her hands away from my face. “Mom, come on, I said I was fine! Get off!”

A sleek black car came up behind the crawling truck, going far too fast. Its horn blasted in frustration as it swerved into the oncoming lane around the truck and then back. It kept going straight through the other side, wheels spinning on the wet road, and plowed into mom’s car.

 _That’s right,_ I remembered. _Mom did pick me up. And then we got in the car, and we went home…._

The black car was small and so low to the ground that it slipped under ours and neatly scooped it up. We went rolling down a shallow hill, landing on the roof and sliding. 

When it came to a full stop, I stepped around to the passenger side. Mom’s body was slumped backwards through the window laying across the wet grass, safety glass shattered around her. Her head hung limp to one side, jaw half-open and eyes staring blankly. Inside the car, I hung limp from my seatbelt, face bloodied beyond recognition.

But no, this was still wrong; I didn’t die here.

And I didn’t, I saw, as Dust came streaming through. I gasped awake as the first person reached our car, a man in his forties who had half-fallen down the wet hill to get to us.

He took one look at my mom’s body and went white, jaw clenching. He hooked his arms under hers and hauled her body out the rest of the way, laying her behind the car.

“Where’s my mom?” I asked, tears threatening to fall as he reached in to pull me out next, fumbling at the jammed seatbelt. “Where is she? Where’s my mom?!” The younger me looked around, and caught sight of the watching me again. Venomously she demanded, “Why are _you_ still here?”

I didn’t know. I reached out through the glass and broke the dream.

* * *

 

“Morning,” Lisa greeted. “Sleep well?”

I shrugged, then remembered she wouldn’t see it over the phone. My eyes still felt gritty even after a breakfast of tea and toast, and a short shower. “Well enough. I’m going to go stake out that address you gave me for Victor and Othala. Any leads on Crusader?”

“Nothing on him. I’m thinking he might be with Victor and Othala - it’s either that or he’s slumming it living like a hobo somewhere, because there’s no movement from his accounts and I’ve checked all the motels and hotels that’ll take his cash no questions asked.”

“And he’s not just holed up in his own basement?”

“I should hope not, the PRT raided it yesterday. If he’s in some secret panic room he’d better have a month’s food supply in there with him.”

I smiled, thinking of Crusader pacing around in a tiny room, slowly losing his mind from boredom.

“Thanks for the update. I’ll call you again sometime tonight, hopefully when Victor and Othala are in custody.”

It didn’t take me long to find the address Lisa had written down for me; I knew where the street was, and when I was in range it was impossible not to notice the orange lights of PRT containment vans. I double-checked the house number against my paper to make sure, but there was little doubt in my mind that the Protectorate got to this one first.

On one hand, I should be glad. My goal was being accomplished, and I didn’t even need to work for it. On the other, much more realistic hand, I was angry. I wanted to take them down myself.

Velocity, Armsmaster, and Alexandria were all apparently supervising as people in black hoods were led out of the house in handcuffs. I watched a man with Victor’s build get in and be foamed into the bench seat from shoulders to toes.

I turned around, unwilling to get into another talk with a hero so soon after my last one. Too late: somehow they’d been alerted to my presence. Velocity and Armsmaster stayed where they were, but Alexandria took off in my direction.

I’d walked this whole way from Lisa’s apartment, but the time for subtlety was gone. I raised Dust wings and took to the air as well, planning to lose her in flight.

“Lazarus, hold up!” Alexandria shouted, only audible because I had a sensor on her.

“What?” I asked, from a voice right next to her ear. I was vindicated to see her startle slightly and jerk away from it. If she was talking, she wasn’t chasing me. I edged out of line-of-sight.

“You can still hear me, right?” she looked around, eventually pinpointing the sensor my voice was coming from.

“Yes.”

“We got Victor and Othala here. You got Krieg and Stormtiger, and Crusader turned himself in yesterday.”

Crusader had turned himself in? That might explain why Lisa couldn’t track him down.

“That’s the end of them. Have you given any more thought to my offer?”

“Still thinking about it,” I lied. I had not given it much more thought, too wrapped up in other implications.

“You should have called the number,” she said. “I told you we’ve been investigating, and we’ve found out some things that you might want to know.”

“What things?” I checked, but she wasn’t looking around for me. Armsmaster and Velocity were still where they had been.

“About the Empire and your father, what really happened.”

_What really happened?_

Purity said that they hadn’t released the site, but that they _had_ taken my dad, and I knew what happened after that. I’d seen it.

“We’re still gathering the pieces of it now, Victor and Othala may hold the key. If you call the number.”

“...I’ll think about it,” I said. I did want to call, both to find out what she was talking about and to ask her if she knew about other people like me. Immortal people.

I moved away, losing Alexandria from my range.

_What now?_

* * *

 

What I wound up doing was going back to the Undersiders’ base and playing the game that Alec had left running last night. It was apparently too early for him to be awake, and Lisa and Rachel were both out. Brian, I knew, slept at his apartment.

Alec eventually wandered out of his room, yawning as he pulled a soda out of the fridge and popped the tab with a satisfying crack. Then he noticed me.

“Hey! Is that my save file?”

“New game,” I said, concentrating on dodging some PRT-esque agents as they fired nets at my character. “Don’t worry, I saved yours before I started it.”

He flopped down on the couch next to me and watched for a minute. “Are those the hero powers? Fuckin’ figures you’d pick the good route.”

“Hero’s late game is more fun than villain’s,” I retorted. I’d escaped the PRT ambush and run straight into a mini-event to find and defuse a bomb. As a hero, I couldn’t really afford to just ignore it.

“Yeah, but the villain powers let you suck the life out of people. Beating the last bosses is hard if you just suck up electricity from random light poles.”

I grinned. “Not if you’re good enough.”

“Oh, fuck you. I bet you complete all the objectives, too.”

I did, but I wasn’t going to confirm it. “Where’s Lisa and Rachel?” I asked instead.

“Not my turn to watch them,” he said automatically. “Bitch is probably walking her dogs, though.”

I let that topic fall, and for a few hours we played video games, trading the controller back and forth. It was a few hours where I could forget the hole my life had dropped into, and I didn’t have to think about what to do next. In the back of my mind my comment to Armsmaster brewed, about throwing myself at Ellisburg or another threat, but it was held back by Alexandria’s offer and Lisa’s theory about my powers. I needed more information.

“Hey, Alec,” I began, while browsing through the list to choose my next power-up, “If you could be immortal, would you want to?”

“What, like you?” He put his empty can on the ground and stomped on it, expertly flattening it next two the previous one. “Maybe. Not really. You don’t get to pick, right? So even if there’s a time when you wish you could die, you can’t. Like, what if you get trapped in lava or something? Or tortured? Pretty shitty situation.”

 _Choosing to die._ It was just as incomprehensible to me now as it had been when Dennis said his father didn’t want to be rewound. Even at the moment I watched my father die on a little screen, I hadn’t wanted to die with him. I’d just wanted to retaliate.

“But the torture eventually ends,” I said, “And my power can dig me out of getting trapped in lava or molten steel. And at the end of it, I’m still alive to get back at whoever tried to trap me.”

He shrugged. “Whatever. ‘S your power, we don’t get to trade them in or buy upgrades. If we could I’d definitely buy a reduction on the cast-time for mine.”

“I thought you just twitched people’s muscles.”

Alec grinned and jerked his elbow. My own arm locked up in response, flicking out to the side and leaving me holding the controller one-handed. It was a very disconcerting experience.

“Yeah, but after enough time with someone’s nervous system, I get full control, body-puppet style.”

A strong but limited Master effect. “Damn. You’re lucky the Protectorate has no idea, or you’d be a big target. They don’t like Masters.”

“Don’t have to tell me,” he complained. “I’m not supposed to do it anymore. I’m getting rusty.”

A thought occurred. “Can you control _me_?”

“Haven’t spent enough time yet, passively it takes a few days. If I’m concentrating and working on it, a few hours. Why, you wanna get kinky?”

“Okay, _gross_ ,” I leaned away from him, and he crowed with laughter. “No, I was just wondering. Can you control dead bodies? Or powers?”

“No dead bodies, some powers. A mental power like Lisa’s is iffy, but I could do Grue’s darkness easy.”

That was a little troubling. I wondered if my control of my Dust counted as a ‘mental power’ or not.

“Is the immortal dork afraid of me, now?” Alec asked, kicking at my ankle. “Hey, if you’re not gonna play give up the controller. I wanna jump around on those ice powers you got.”

I handed the controller over. “Not scared of you. Just don’t do it to me and we won’t have a problem.”

“Ye-es ma’am,” he drawled. In the game, he hit the wrong button, jumped off a bridge and straight into water. The character died immediately. “Fuck, that’s such a stupid weakness. This retard could walk into a puddle and die. Why’s he in _Louisiana_.”

“I think they just didn’t want to program in a swimming mechanic,” I said consolingly. “Follow the quest marker, I want the next power.”

* * *

 

The door downstairs banged shut carelessly, and Lisa’s voice announced, “I’m here! What were your other two wishes?”

“This shitty genie just keeps giving me the opposite of what I ask for.” Alec called back. “Fuck, just shoot him already!” This was directed to me, in a particularly difficult boss fight.

“It’s called tactics, dumbass, if you wait the tanks blow off his armor plating and your shots are twice as strong,” I countered, dodging another laser-shot. “I’m not wasting energy when he’s fully armored.”

“Shoot him enough and _you_ blow off his armor plates,” Alec insisted.

“Boy, I really hope you guys are talking about a game.” Lisa commented as she came up the spiral stairs. She skipped the last step with a hop and came right for us. “Pause that for a sec, I got news.”

“Fuck your news, this is a boss,” Alec said.

“Fuck you, _I’m_ the boss,” Lisa leaned over the couch and flicked him on the ear. “Thank you, Taylor.” I’d already hit the pause button, bringing up the menu.

Alec groaned, “You’re just encouraging her delusions of power.”

“Brian called me while I was out, the local news channels are blowing up with news that the Empire’s been taken down. I’ve been out on random wifi networks doing research all day. We’re probably going to have company.”

“I am _not_ sharing my room.” Alec said quickly.

“Not that kind of company. The Teeth kind. _Butcher_ kind. They’ve been itching to come back to the Bay since the Nine almost wiped them out. They’re the worst of it, but we’ve also got the Elite sniffing around to see if it’s worth fighting for a piece of our pie, and with the Nazis gone even Accord might try to get some people in.”

Alec shrugged, and I felt about the same. It was unfortunate, but it was a villain problem. I didn’t even know if I’d be staying in the Bay long enough to see the fighting.

“So we’ll lay low for a little while, wait for them to duke it out, and then keep doing what we’ve been doing,” Alec said.

“Yeah, about that,” Lisa said. “Brian’s on his way over with takeout, Bitch’ll be here in a few minutes. We’ve got a job from the boss, one I think you’re gonna like.”


	22. Interlude: PHO

Welcome to the Parahumans Online Message Boards  
You are currently logged in, Lazarus (Verified Cape)  
You are viewing:  
• Threads you have replied to  
• AND Threads that have new replies  
• OR private message conversations with new replies  
• Thread OP is displayed  
• Twenty posts per page  
• Last twenty messages in private message history  
• Threads and private messages are ordered by user custom preference.

 

■

**♦Topic: I met the Ward Lazarus today when she came into my work!**  
In: Boards ► Places ► America ► Brockton Bay  
  
**Coffeeshopgirl** (Original Poster)  
Posted on January 28, 2011:  
  
I work at the DD down on Lord street and guess who came in at ass-o-clock, none other than the newest ward Lazarus!! (Edit: I’ve been told that she might not be a Ward anymore, but idk she didn’t tell me anything about that)

Proof:  
IMAGE REMOVED

She seemed pretty tired and out of it, and who could blame her after getting doxxed like that? She didn’t say anything about it, just sat down in a corner to wait for her friend to show up. I gave her a blueberry muffin and had to clean up some crumbs she left, apparently Lazarus doesn’t like blueberries, someone go edit her wiki page.

Still, probably my best night of work yet. Last time a hero came to my store was when Glory Girl came through the drive-thru for coffee and my manager had to tell her we can’t take walk-ups. I wasn’t even there for that, but my friend tells me it was amazing.

Moderator message: Please do not post images of unmasked parahumans, even ones whose identities have been revealed, and especially ones who were unmasked without consent.  
  
**(Showing Page 1 of 2)**

> **► Generiguy1**  
>  Replied on January 28, 2011:  
>  She looks a lot younger than I thought she would. Doesn’t BB have a curfew? Does it apply to cape kids?
> 
> **► [Removed]** (Temp-banned)  
>  Replied on January 28, 2011:  
>  [Original content removed]
> 
> **► Den_Mother** (Moderator)  
>  Replied on January 28, 2011:  
>  MODERATOR MESSAGE: Please refrain from using Lazarus’ real name or linking to the website. First offense gets you a ban. These have always been the rules, you all should know them.
> 
> **► Whiner**  
>  Replied on January 28, 2011:  
>  Seems a bit harsh for a first offense, doesn’t it?
> 
> **► WineAndDiner**  
>  Replied on January 28, 2011:  
>  They’re overworked, they can’t afford to have to warn the same guy three times before a ban. Ban ‘em once and you’ve cut the work into a third.
> 
> **► Dunkonem**  
>  Replied on January 28, 2011:  
>  Better question, what was Lazarus doing at a Dunkin Donuts the same night she got unmasked? Who was she meeting? Do we know yet who posted that site? My gut says Empire.
> 
> **► Coffeeshopgirl** (Original Poster)  
>  Replied on January 28, 2011:  
>  I dunno, Empire’s never really done anything this big before. They’re practically a community support group around here.
> 
> **► Getreal**  
>  Replied on January 29, 2011:  
>  I didn’t get to see the pic before it was taken down, but after that comment I just know that OP is white as mayonnaise.
> 
> **► Contributor**  
>  Replied on January 29, 2011:  
>  Someone in another thread says that Lazarus isn’t a Ward anymore, she was seen escaping out of a PRT truck by just busting a hole in the top of it. Not Ward behavior for sure.
> 
> **► Theorizer**  
>  Replied on January 29, 2011:  
>  Sounds like someone escaped from protective custody. Think she’s going to take revenge with that invisible minion? *shivers* I wouldn’t want that after me

  
**End of Page. 1,** 2

**(Showing Page 2 of 2)**

> **► Pressxtodoubt**  
>  Replied on January 29, 2011:  
>  Revenge on who? If it really was the Empire, she can’t do shit alone. They’ve still got Kaiser and Purity, and the other half of their capes.
> 
> **► Whiner**  
>  Replied on January 29, 2011:  
>  Holy shit OP… after what was on the news this morning, I think you’re lucky you got out of that Dunkin alive.
> 
> **► Dunkonem**  
>  Replied on January 29, 2011:  
>  Well tbf OP is an Empire sympathizer, not actually Empire. Hopefully Lazarus is only targetting actuall E88 gang members
> 
> **► Coffeeshopgirl** (Original Poster)  
>  Replied on January 29, 2011:  
>  Holy shit I just saw it myself. She must have done that right after leaving my store. Oh my god.

  
**End of Page. 1, 2**

 

■

**♦Topic: Not to speak well of the dead Nazis but Kaiser is uh... DILF [LOCKED]**  
In: Boards ► Places ► America ► Brockton Bay ► Villains  
  
**RealThirst** (Original Poster) (Villain Groupie)  
Posted on January 30, 2011:  
  
I mean just look at this guy’s pic I ripped from Medhall’s site before it crashed:

[Image description: Pictured from the waist up, a white man in his mid-thirties with dirty blond hair cut short and bright blue eyes that are beginning to wrinkle at the corners. He is smiling blandly, mouth closed. He is wearing a black suit, white shirt, and blue and gold tie.]

Why are the hot ones always evil?  
  
**(Showing Page 1 of 1)**

> **► JudgingYouSpecifically**  
>  Replied on January 29, 2011:  
>  Bad post OP. Seek help from a licensed professional for those incredible daddy issues.
> 
> **► TriggerHappy** (Moderator)  
>  Replied on January 29, 2011:  
>  Moderator Message: Locked. What the fuck.

  
**End of Page. 1,** 2

 

■

**♦Topic: Master thread for the Empire Blowup**  
In: Boards ► Places ► America ► Brockton Bay  
  
**Bagrat** (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know)  
Posted on January 29, 2011:  
  
Since there’s like ten OOTL threads going around right now, I figure I'll try to sort some things out for people.

This began late Thursday, 1/27/11, when some unnamed source (which is strongly believed to actually be E88), outed the civilian ID of a new Brockton Bay Ward, Lazarus. I can’t link the leak site, because I like my account un-banned, but rest assured it’s out there. They did this because, they said, she outed their IDs leading to the PRT capturing a bunch of their capes (see this press release) and killing one (oops). The PRT and Protectorate have since pushed back on that claim with their own evidence, and while the video is clearly edited it seems like the official story holds the most water. Still we all like a juicy conspiracy, and who’s to say what’s true?

Reports have Lazarus herself splitting off from the PRT, possibly protective custody. This post tells us (with removed photo evidence, but it was legit while it was up) Laz stopped into a Dunkin to meet with a friend.

Info from captured gangbangers says that Kaiser died during the battle that caused this damage to Captain’s Hill, a popular local park. Yeah, we still aren’t sure what the fuck did that. After Captain’s Hill, Lazarus and the PRT have gone dark.

EDIT 1: PRT statement tl;dr: “We’re coming down like a sack of hammers on the Empire.” The PRT have released the civilian IDs of most of the remaining Empire capes, including Kaiser himself… bit late on that one. This statement was also the first time anyone heard that the Empire went after Lazarus’s father, no word yet on how that turned out. We can assume _badly_.

EDIT 2: Lazarus has officially gone rogue to clean up the E88 herself. A PRT rep here severs ties with her, while confirming that she’s the one who fucked up the Hill. This post here shows her using some big-ass telekinesis to demo an entire building, while capturing Stormtiger. Someone got this girl an upgrade.

EDIT 3: “Alternative sources” here, of dubious reliability, tell us that Lazarus’s dad was killed and she’s on a revenge kick. Before it got locked, the consensus of the thread seemed to be ‘good riddance’ to the neo-Nazis.  
  
**(Showing Page 12 of 73)**

> **► Pressxtodoubt**  
>  Replied on January 29, 2011:  
>  This is really fucking stupid, though. Someone else said it earlier and I’ll bring it up again, this is a clusterfuck they’ll spend months if not years sorting out. Did we ever even get proof that it was E88 who put up that site? Or have we moved on from that already?
> 
> **► Quickreader**  
>  Replied on January 29, 2011:  
>  Shit’s happening too fast man, keep up. The site is soooo last week.
> 
> **► Asksquestions**  
>  Replied on January 29, 2011:  
>  So… are we just ignoring the fact that her power is completely different now? Before she just had a minion to do her bidding, now she has telekinesis and no minion? Why the fuck are we even still assuming this is the same parahuman? And if she is… hello Mord Nag 2.0 please don’t eat me.
> 
> **► Photoshopshill**  
>  Replied on January 29, 2011:  
>  Same parahuman, probably. Refer to the leak site for details on her real power (tldr minion is invisble) and then rewatch the video where she destroys that building. You can see it crumbling around a very big shape, likely a powered-up invisible minion. Her floating = another minion. Stormtiger suddenly knocking out = another minion.
> 
> **► Asksquestions**  
>  Replied on January 29, 2011:  
>  Alright, I can buy that. But how???? Was she just holding back before? I mean the video where the E88 attacked a prisoner transport doesn’t show us that she has multiple gigantic minions
> 
> **► NeedsGlasses**  
>  Replied on January 29, 2011:  
>  You mean you could actually see something in that video? It was just blackness for me. Smh these cape fights don’t set up proper lighting first.
> 
> **► Thoughtfilly**  
>  Replied on January 30, 2011:  
>  Yeah, it does raise some questions about who was lying to who… did she lie to her bosses or did they lie to us? Or put it another way, does she have hidden motives, or does the PRT?

  
**End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 12, 13, 14 … 73**

**(Showing Page 37 of 73)**

> **► Nonjujer**  
>  Replied on January 30, 2011:  
>  I mean, they killed her dad and outed her. This all seems pretty fair to me.
> 
> **► Shortsighted**  
>  Replied on January 30, 2011:  
>  It’s not fair to me :( I had a picnic on the Hill planned for next weekend.
> 
> **► TooFarsighted**  
>  Replied on January 30, 2011:  
>  It’s fair that she demoed a building with people inside it? I hope it’s not asking too much of our heroes if we want to avoid that kind of thing.
> 
> **► Probablynotsarcastic**  
>  Replied on January 30, 2011:  
>  Yeah, but they were E88 supporters so… they deserved it, obviously /s
> 
> **► Dontmuteme** (Temp-banned)  
>  Replied on January 30, 2011:  
>  Uh, yes, Nazis getting it in the face always deserve it. She shouldn’t have let them run out before she brought the house down.
> 
> Moderator message: No advocating violence, even for Nazis.

  
**End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 37, 38, 39, … 73**

**(Showing Page 54 of 73)**

> **► Bagrat** (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know)  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  Latest movement on the Lazarus crusade, sounds like she got Krieg. My friend saw it happen and sent me these pics:
> 
> [Image Description: A four-storey beige office building with wall-to-wall windows that start from two feet off the floor and go all the way to the ceiling. One of the windows on the third floor is conspicuously shattered, showing darkness instead of a reflection of the sky. Hovering in front of the broken window is a thin figure in a dark hooded sweatshirt and jeans, hands spread slightly to either side.]
> 
> [Image Description: The same figure is slightly closer to the viewer, still floating high in the air and looking down, their face in shadow. Beside them but a few feet away is another person, a man in business attire lying apparently unconscious but still afloat.]
> 
> [Image Description: The camera has zoomed out to a wide-angle lens, displaying a street empty except for a PRT truck with its orange emergency light caught in a bright flare, and a light morning fog. The back doors of the truck are open, standing in front of them is the hero Miss Militia. She is in full costume, looking up with her hands on her hips. Above her is the same figure, face half-lit by early morning sunlight; it is the ex-Ward Lazarus. The fog and the sunlight create an optical illusion of light flaring out behind her. One of her hands is extended forward as the unconscious body at her feet is offered to Miss Militia.]
> 
> [Image Description: Lazarus is closer to the ground now, her expression angry. Her arms are crossed and her neck and jaw are tense. Miss Militia is more difficult to read because of the mask, but she doesn’t seem confrontational. Her weapon is a knife in a sheath by her hip.]
> 
> **► ProvidesSources**  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  Yeah, someone already posted the video. Is it just me or did that glass break before she touched it?
> 
> **► HasGlasses**  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  It definitely did, it broke outward. Damn, why can’t that ever happen to a meeting I’m in?
> 
> **► Derailer**  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  The Lazarus Crusade is a kickass band name or something.
> 
> **► Offtopic**  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  Someone should post that third shot to AccidentalRennaissance, that’s a work of art. Are those wings?
> 
> **► Groupie#14** (Cape Groupie)  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  Holy shit, I was in that coffee shop this morning! Aw man, if only I’d stuck around a few minutes…
> 
> **► Photoshopshill**  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  Why, so you can get sprayed with falling glass? Maybe caught in the crossfire between a fugtive and the PRT, or a cape battle? I’ll never understand some people
> 
> **► BBFinest**  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  Calm your shit, man. Lazarus isn’t a villain, you notice that even MM let her go without a fight.
> 
> **► Norwon**  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  Yeah, anyone know what they were saying btw?
> 
> **► Sillyhopeful**  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  Cryptic shit, mostly. Lazarus told MM to call her by her real name, I heard. Hey, mods, does that mean we can use it?
> 
> **► TriggerHappy** (Moderator)  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  No.

  
**End of Page. 1, 2, 3 … 54, 55, 56, ... 73**

**(Showing Page 68 of 73)**

> **► CprlVisit**  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  This is the thread where were tracking Lazarus, right? Because I just saw her chase Purity off of attacking the Azn Bad Boys. Give me a sec, typing it up
> 
> **► Nodont**  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  Oh shiiiit, Lazarus/Lung teamup. Someone call in the shippers.
> 
> **► CprlVisit**  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  Okay, so Purity came flying in doing her boom boom thing. After about a minute, two other people came flying up, although they were harder to see because they don’t glow like Purity does. I’m like 80% sure that one of them was Lazarus, I got a look at the faces and she wasn’t wearing a mask, plus she had the right hair. Don’t know who the other one was, that one had a mask and a purple and black costume.
> 
> They talked for about a minute, then they both flew away. I spent the whole time wishing for some super-hearing powers, couldn’t tell what they were saying. Nobody killed or even punched anybody though.
> 
> **► Sillhopeful**  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  Did you see why Lazarus chose to Purity go? Shes been capturing every other Nazi she finds.
> 
> **► Hmmmm**  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  Another post from Bagrat said that word is Purity split off from E88 a while ago… this sounds like good support for that.
> 
> **► Scottyz**  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  Yeah, or Lazarus just didn’t want to fuck with Purity. Purity soloed Lung and Oni Lee before. Which sounds more likely. reformed Nazi or the zombie didn’t want to fuck with the Legend knock-off?
> 
> **► Dreamlend**  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  Anyone know who the other cape was? Doesn’t sound like one of the other wards

  
**End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 68, 69, 70, … 73**

**(Showing Page 73 of 73)**

> **► Youn**  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  Not that many flying capes in the Bay. Aegis, Rune (she gone tho), Dauntless, Kid Win, and like all of New Wave. New Wave teamup seems most likely to me.
> 
> **► HighMoon**  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  Bad news, if Lazarus can lift herself in the air it’s a good bet she can lift someone else with her. Cape doesn’t have to have their own flying powers.
> 
> **► Whiner**  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  Another new cape? Like we don’t have enough already??
> 
> **► UnconfirmedKills**  
>  Replied on January 31, 2011:  
>  Breaking news: fucking Alexandria has come to the Bay. Saw her in my neighborhood earlier.

  
**End of Page.** 1, 2, 3 ... 71, 72, 73

 

■

Private Messages  
Sorted by: **Conversation** | Date Received

> **Clockblocker *New Message*** : Hey Laz... I know this isn't the most secure way to contact you, but the other method we were using isn't working any more. Vista told me she was messaging u on here, its better than nothing right
> 
> Things back here are pretty shit, we arent even allowed to patrol without a protectorate hero with us. Vista got talked at about not stopping you when you escaped, I think if her powers werent mantoned then she would have stretched Renick. Miss piggy assigned us all extra classes, which is bs.
> 
> finally got to see what you did to the hill in person. fucking scary, dude. glad you're on our side. See ya around
> 
> **Clockblocker** : I can’t
> 
> **Clockblocker** : shit, sorry, didn’t mean to send that. Ignore it pls
> 
> **Clockblocker** : Guess who tf showed up? I’ll give u a hundred guesses and u still won’t get it right
> 
> **Clockblocker** : Fucking ALEXANDRIA
> 
> **Clockblocker** : Vista almost passed out when we met her.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Vista *New Message*** : It was really shitty of you to leave like that. I know we aren't really good friends yet, but I thought we were getting there. I thought you knew that I would have helped you.
> 
> Don't blame Gallant. He's was trying his best to do what he thought was right, we all make mistakes. You should come back, I don't want to be the only girl on the team.
> 
> How did you know, btw? You just suddenly tensed up in the van.
> 
> **Vista** : I'm so sorry. Taylor please come back. You shouldn't be alone for this.
> 
> **Vista** : Did you get Gallant’s message?
> 
> **Vista** : Don’t believe Clockblocker, I did not pass out.
> 
> * * *
> 
>   **Gallant *New Message*** : I’m sorry, Lazarus. Piggot told me not to say anything, and she was standing right there. I couldn’t think of a way to pass it along in code. I didn’t want you to hear it like that, over the radio, I just wanted you to be safe. And your dad to be safe. He wouldn’t want you to risk yourself for him, would he?
> 
> **Gallant** : It’s not your fault. None of this was your fault. I hope you read this, Taylor.
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Aegis *New Message*** : Clock told me you probably weren't checking your messages here, but just in case...
> 
> Taylor, nobody blames you for what happened. It wasn't your fault, it was just an unwinnable situation. Whenever you're ready to come back, we'll be ready to throw you a welcome home party.
> 
> Hope to see you soon,  
>  Aegis
> 
> * * *
> 
>  
> 
> **Miss Militia *New Message*** : The Wards tell me that you haven’t responded to their messages and might not even be reading them. I hope that you are. I’ve been alone in the world before, cut off from everything I knew, and it’s not a place I’d wish on anyone.
> 
> This isn’t a ploy to get you to come back, I just thought you might appreciate an update. The Wards are doing as well as can be expected, especially under the close guard they’ve had to deal with. The therapist came in (you never got to meet her, did you? She’s very good) and after a session with Clockblocker let me know that something was bothering him. After only minimal prompting he shared with me the message he gave you. We’re working on getting him to believe that no blame rests on his shoulders. A message from you would probably help him a lot.
> 
> Aegis similarly feels that he failed as a leader, because you didn’t trust him or the other heroes to back you up. They are all working on healing. I hope you are as well. I hope you are among friends.
> 
> I never asked you about the problems that led up to your trigger event, and I should have. I never wanted you to think I didn’t care, but I didn’t want to push you and make you uncomfortable. I was afraid that you might leave and set out on your own. That strikes me as a little ironic now.
> 
> I’m sorry for any pain I caused you. I hope you’ll find a way to come back.
> 
> Sincerely,  
>  Miss Militia


	23. Wraith 3.6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finished arc 3 and its interlude, and... I'm not all that happy with it. Depending on how the first couple chapters of arc 4 go, I may wind up rewriting all of 3.8, 3.9, and interlude. If that happens there will be a break between posted chapters. As expected, my new job is leaving me less writing time.

“Why did you think I’d be interested in a jewelry store heist?” Alec asked.

“Shiny rocks. Plus maybe we’d let you keep some of the loot for your costume.” Lisa said.

“I’m gonna bedazzle my scepter with real diamonds.”

“Depending on how big the haul actually is,” Brian interjected. “That isn’t a guarantee.”

“Boss did guarantee he’d pay us at least eight grand each,” Lisa continued, “On top of whatever he gets for the loot. That’s a pretty good deal, _and_ he’s funding our recon.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Brian asked. “He’s going to pay us hourly to stake it out?”

“Nope. Another villain who’s in town already reconned it. Got busted by a couple heroes, so she doesn’t want to do the heist herself because they’re prepared for her kit. So she’s selling the info to us.”

“That’s Circus, right?” Alec said, surprising everyone. “What? I have the internet, I keep track of some shit.”

“I’m in,” Bitch said. “As long as this is still a _four-way_ split.” She glared at me.

All five of us were gathered around the kitchen island, standing and eating the pizza that Brian had brought with him. I kept chewing my mouthful, trying to think of something to say. Nothing good came to mind, so I just kept staring with a blank expression instead.

Her eyes narrowed, but she broke eye contact to look down and grab another slice.

“Taylor doesn’t want to be on the team, so it’s still just a four-way split.” Lisa confirmed. “Brian? Alec?”

“I want the information from Circus before I decide,” Brian said. “A jewelry store on Lord Street is bound to catch a lot of attention, I want to make sure it’s worth it. Not to mention the rumors that Alexandria is or was in town. Any truth to those, Lisa?”

“I can confirm that she was here, but she might have already left for LA again. Either way, she doesn’t bring anything that say, Velocity or Dauntless doesn’t already. In-and-out like always, we’ll be gone before the alarm even starts to ring. Alec?”

Alec shrugged. “I’m down.”

Lisa looked at me, for some reason. “Still not on your team,” I said. At the same time I decided I’d follow them from a distance. Accidents happen, after all.

“Right. I’m up for it, personally, but I also want the intel from Circus. Boss is interested in recruiting her but he wants our take on her first.”

Circus; we were supposed to keep an eye out for the villain and use caution when engaging. I could use this to get information about her powers - 

A step behind my own train of thought, I abruptly remembered I wasn’t with the Wards anymore, and stopped it in its tracks. They probably wouldn’t want any information I could gather anyway.

“Settled then,” Brian nodded. “Tats, text me the number for Circus. I’ll call her tonight.”

Lisa was already tapping away at her phone. Without looking up she said, “She’s paid half now and half after a successful job, boss has it arranged. If she asks you for payment, she’s just trying to scam you.”

“Thanks,” Brian said, a bit sarcastic in a ‘I know how this works’ way.

Lisa winked at him. “You know me, always looking out for the team. Taylor, I’ll stop by the apartment tomorrow morning, we can go get coffee alright?”

Right. I still needed to know what was up with her and the Undersiders’ patron.

* * *

 

I had my Dust jostle me awake as Lisa came down the street, holding two paper cups from the Yellow Bird Cafe. By the time she pulled back her foot to kick the door and get me to let her in, I was already on the other side, dressed if not put together, and pulled it open. I then had to steady her with more Dust as it left her off balance.

“Next time say something,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“You should know by now that I know everything that goes on within range,” I reminded her.

“Yeah, but the one time I depend on that something will come up. Here, just how you like it.” Lisa handed me one of the cups, still warm. “Go brush your hair, I want to go out for a walk and get some air. I was cooped up half the night doing research.”

I liked walking, so I went and made myself presentable to the outside world. Lisa presented me with the same movie-star-incognito sunglasses when I came back.

“There has to be a better disguise than this,” I muttered as I put them on. I still looked ridiculous. The huge lenses somehow made my mouth look _bigger_.

“I could get a pair of those joke glasses with the fake nose and mustache attached,” Lisa offered. “Think about it, nobody in their right mind would think you were trying _not_ to be noticed.”

“I’ll stick with these.” I wondered if I could give myself a disfiguring injury; but then if it healed naturally, it might be permanent. Then that led me into wondering if plastic surgery would stick, and by the time I decided it probably wouldn’t we were out on the street walking. I’d missed my peaceful walks; we went in silence. I figured that Lisa would start talking when she wanted to.

I swung my legs at a restful pace, then realized Lisa was huffing trying to keep up with me. Right, I was too tall to use my full stride. I slowed down.

“No, keep it up,” Lisa said, her voice quiet and half out of breath. “This is fast enough that I can spot anyone trying to follow us. Nobody sane walks this fast.”

A harsh if fair assessment. I remembered being a kid, walking with my parents, struggling to keep up with dad’s long stride. He used to laugh about it and pick me up and put me on his shoulders.

I missed him like someone had taken away my safety net at the beginning of a trapeze show. It wouldn’t kill me, but the absence made me nervous.

Lisa broke into my maudlin thoughts by beginning with, “My team’s boss is Coil.”

“The mercenary guy? Is he even a parahuman?”

Lisa gave me a look. “Yes.” I’d maybe insulted her a little by implying she could be trapped by a normal person. “His power is… complicated to explain, but to boil it down, he splits timelines. If he has to make a yes or no decision, in one reality he says yes and in the other he says no. Whichever outcome is most favorable is the one he chooses to keep, and once he’s picked a reality to live in he splits again.

“From the outside, he just looks lucky. Imagine a maze that only ever splits in two directions; he gets to explore both ways at once. Whichever leads to a dead end, he cuts off, and because nobody but him knows the other reality ever existed, from the outside it looks like he already knew the way through.”

“Mazes aren’t that easy, though,” I pointed out. “Some have more than a two-way split, and some don’t lead to dead ends until after you’ve already passed through a bunch of forks.”

She nodded. “And that’s where I’m having trouble. You can’t tell where he split. Was it five seconds ago, when you walked into the room… or was it five hours ago, when you figured out where he is?”

So, if he was smart with his power - and I assumed he was, because Lisa hadn’t outsmarted him yet - you might never know that you were on the right track.

Still… “How did he get you?”

“Remember when you asked me why I became a villain? I told you I didn’t really have another choice.”

I stopped walking. “That was Coil?”

Lisa bumped into me, making flicking motions with her hand to get me to start going again. “Yes. There was a gun and everything, very scary. My options were work for him or die, and personally I like living. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t exactly an angel before. I was stealing to make a living, which is part of how he found me. He has connections in law enforcement, paramilitary, the PRT. But I wasn’t aiming to be… this.”

“He has connections in the PRT?” I asked, surprised.

“Why do you think I didn’t just try running away? Not only would I have to anticipate a guy who can hide half his moves, I’d have to dodge every acronym agency out there. He’s got the strings to pull to put me on wanted lists across America. If I want out, I’ll have to step over his dead body to get to the door.”

 _Can I kill someone for her?_ I didn’t feel like I had a problem with it.

“There’s more you need to know, Taylor.” Lisa said. Her voice was oddly gentle. “It’s not just law enforcement Coil has his fingers in. He has spies in all the major gangs, including Empire Eighty-Eight.”

_Empire?..._

Lisa drew us down a narrow side street, not wide enough to even have a sidewalk on both sides. I went unresisting, waiting for a thought to finish forming. She started, “Do you remember - ” _I think he’ll let him go._ “ - thought Kaiser was telling the truth? Maybe - ”

_Here. You should watch this._

_Black balaclava - gun raised - three shots._

_Kaiser frowned and jerked the phone back, turning it around to look._

Was he surprised? Was that what that was?

Quickly, a new picture started to come together in my head:

 _Krieg also told me that it wasn’t them that leaked your civilian ID,_ Purity said.

 _About the Empire and your father, what really happened,_ Alexandria said.

And I pulled off the sunglasses, turned to look at Lisa. She met my gaze, fearful but unflinching.

_He has spies._

My hand lashed out almost before I knew I was moving, shoving her back into the brick wall. I pinned her with a boost of strength from my Dust cloak. “How long… have you known? How long have you been leading me around, _working for the guy who killed my dad_?!” 

I had knocked the wind out of her; I could feel her convulsing under my hand as she dragged in too little air. “Please,” she whispered, “Taylor, please.”

It was like this that I’d first showed her my Dust, that she’d told me I might be able to bring people back. I asked if she trusted me, and she did.

_Do I trust her?_

Or, a better question, did I need to? She could explain herself now and I could act later.

I let up the pressure, using Dust instead of my hand. She sucked in a deep gasp of air and coughed, eyes watering. Once she’d gotten that under control, she met my eyes again. “I didn’t know, Taylor. I didn’t. God, I wish I could make you see what I see, so you know I’m not lying.”

“I’ll know if you lie,” I swore. I had Dust in her veins now. I could feel every beat of her heart and every catch of air as she changed her mind about what she was saying. I wasn’t sure… but I thought I’d know.

“Okay,” she said. “I did not know. Coil told me to send you the stuff on Shadow Stalker. He told me to try to recruit you if I could. I know he wanted…” she paused, still panting for breath a little. “At least one more heavy hitter for the team before he takes us big-time. When the Empire happened, I thought it was just… good luck. Do you see what I meant about his power? It just looks like he’s lucky.”

“You _knew_ he was _lucky_ ,” I snarled.

“Good luck still happens!” she half-shouted back, then coughed again. “It was only… only when I was hunting them down for you that I started to realize. Half of it was so easy because it was stuff he’d asked me to find before. By the time I was sure… you had already agreed to be my friend. You’d already offered to help me.”

I demanded, “Why wait? Why not tell me then?”

“I was _scared_!” She stopped and stared at me. She was still scared; she was telling me anyway.

I let her down and stayed back as she caught her balance and took a few deep breaths.

“Of this. Of you. That you wouldn’t listen to me first. I was hoping you’d calm down, settle in. If I told you that all of this was Coil’s plan, that first night you called me… wouldn’t you have killed me?”

Maybe. I don’t know.

“But you’re better now. Less angry. Still a wreck, psychologically speaking - ”

“ _Great_ time for humor.”

She smiled weakly. “But a functioning one. So, thank you. For giving me a chance to explain.”

It might have been easier, I supposed, for her to never tell me. Certainly less immediately risky. She could have pointed me at him from half a city away and then just disappeared. Coil would be too busy dodging me to even think about going after her. 

“Thanks… for trusting me.” After a moment’s thought, I added, “Fuck. I’ve been working for him too, haven’t I?”

Lisa nodded. “He inspires that feeling a lot. It’s really annoying knowing he’s met me more times than I’ve met him.”

“Split realities, right.” I rubbed my temples with some Dust as I dragged a hand through my hair. “Okay. He dies. How?”

Lisa’s smile spread slowly from ear to ear. “I have some good ideas for that. Remember how I said he wants to take us big-time? Well, after this jewelry store heist he’ll make the team an offer...”

* * *

I didn’t go with the Undersiders to meet Circus because Lisa asked me not to.

“I appreciate the thought, Taylor, but you _are_ being tracked pretty heavily and I don’t want to scare her off, or have the Protectorate showing up.”

That left me with a lot of time to myself; the rest of Wednesday left  to my own devices.

I’d written down the phone number Alexandria gave me on a Post-It note and stuck it to Lisa’s coffee table. At noon, I spent the time waiting for my frozen pizza to cook alternately staring at it and trying not to think about it.

Pizza in hand, I sat down in front of the laptop Lisa left behind and started searching, opening up new tabs on everything I could find that dealt with immortality. There were pages about immortal jellyfish and long-lived creatures, trees so old they predated human writing systems. Those had a certain kind of interest, but knowing that my best chance for a pet was a jellyfish wasn’t helpful. I didn’t plan on moving into the ocean.

I didn’t really believe that I’d be able to find out if there were more people like me by running a basic search on the internet. I just didn’t have any better ideas, and it was a good way to kill time.

It turns out there are a lot of stories about immortal human-like creatures, go figure. Many of them are about vampires. Most of them aren’t worth the air it would take to speak about them. But I did stumble upon a list of recommended short stories for exploring unique themes of immortality, compiled on a personal blog of all places. The concise summaries, despite being written in pastel blue on a darker blue background, had me interested. I bookmarked the site and took a break, stretching my back and glancing at the time. Early evening, the Undersiders were meeting Circus right now. I got up and wandered around the apartment to stretch my legs.

_Your friends have been trying to get in touch with you._

The intrusive words replayed in my mind like a mantra. Repeated so often they lost meaning, and then repeated until the meaning came back. I still couldn’t imagine facing the Wards, having them emote at me while I tried to figure out what I should be emoting back, so that they wouldn’t realize that I didn’t feel things the right way.

But PHO… that would be easy, wouldn’t it? It’s easy to watch your words when you can see them written down in front of you first.

I went back to Lisa’s laptop, closed my other tabs and opened the PHO bookmark, and immediately noticed the red notification bubble over the PMs. I almost closed the window.

_Come on, Taylor, what kind of coward are you?_

I read through their messages, Dennis irreverent as always as he skipped around the difficult things. Missy acting strong, still nursing that stupid crush. Dean… Well, his messages didn’t make me dislike him any more, and I knew enough by now to tell that he was sincere. His idea of things just didn’t mesh with my own. Carlos made me smile, imagining a welcome home party. A complete fantasy, but a nice one that I indulged in for just a moment.

_I walk past the front desk, the secretary greeting me. Pass Piggot in the halls, she nods to say “Glad to have you back,” but she doesn’t give me a hard time. Down in the Wards’ section, Dennis gives me a hard time and tries to ruffle my hair like he always does to the others. Chris whips out a party horn, blowing obnoxiously until Carlos swats it out of his mouth. Missy comes up, kind of shy and kind of angry at the same time, and we smile at the same time and forgive each other. Nobody mentions my dad. Nobody says they’re sorry or says they’re surprised at how well I’m handling it, with a note of censure in their voices. We sit around the circular couches and the others talk about school and tell funny stories, and I sit there soaking it in. Nobody minds that I don’t have anything to say._

The fantasy was nice while it lasted. I scrolled down and reached Miss Militia’s message, which shattered the dream completely. There is no time travel, no going back to how things were. Things would never be that easy.

Dennis blamed himself for tipping me off; Carlos blamed himself because, apparently, that was just the kind of person he was. Probably even Dean and Missy were taking on some responsibility for _my_ actions, since it was going around.

 _Why?_ It didn’t make sense to me. How could they feel at fault when they were hardly involved? Dennis had only passed along the truth; Dean had only hidden it. Missy hadn’t even tried to hold me back, and I think she could have. There was enough time between my stopping the van and Coryn ripping us out, she could have bent space. Action or inaction, for me it all came down to the Empire and my stupid choices.

I could perhaps blame them if I’d actually asked for help and been denied. But that wasn’t what happened.

I couldn’t think of anything to say to them, didn’t really _want_ to think about it. Instead I browsed the rest of PHO for a while, finding a few interesting topics. People had more information than I thought they would; someone had seen my meeting with Purity, but then missed Alexandria. It was some consolation that nobody had linked Tattletale to me yet.

The way they spoke about all of it bothered me, and I couldn’t figure out why until it hit me that they were treating all of this like a super-powered soap opera. The worst week of my life was gossip around the water cooler.

In a dark mood, I went back to the bookmarks and picked up where I’d left off my research.


	24. Wraith 3.7

The robbery was planned for Thursday. According to Circus, that was when the new inventory came in for the weekend.

Keller’s was the one of the few higher-end jewelry store in Brockton Bay, and they stayed in business in a city full of gangs by employing heavy security and, rumor had it, protection money to the Empire. Lord Street was theoretically outside the established territory of any of the gangs, except perhaps the transient Archer’s Bridge Merchants, but it bordered on what used to be Empire territory. If the Undersiders or Circus had hit it a few weeks ago, there would have been reprisal from both the neo-Nazis and the heroes.

This Thursday evening, the Empire was gone and the heroes were tied up trying to keep them in their cells, and it looked like the security guards knew it. They were on alert, every head on a swivel and every hand near the gun strapped to their hip.

From spying on the Undersiders’ planning session, I knew the layout of the jewelry store, the usual number of guards and their placement, camera angles, and how my villainous friends planned on evading these obstacles on their way to riches. It was a decent plan, I thought.

I was watching from a block away, in an empty apartment on the second floor of a four-storey building.

Grue approached up the alley, a hoodie layered under his leather jacket and the hood pulled up to disguise the fact that he was wearing a mask. Head tilted down, white wires from a pair of earphones dangling from his ears to one pocket completed the look. They couldn’t see his face, and he couldn’t ‘hear’ them.

The guards were taking no chances. After their first calls to direct him away from the back of their building, one of them reached for her radio. Grue’s darkness spilled out, cutting off the signal at the source, and I felt them panic and fight back. They flailed in the dark, hitting each other more than they ever came close to Grue. A tap to the head each, and they were dazed enough that he could tie them up and gag them, removing the radios to toss them in a nearby dumpster.

Tattletale, Regent, and Bitch ducked into the alley, Tattletale and Regent coming from one direction in similar hooded disguises, Bitch coming from the other dressed as herself - a girl out walking her dogs.

I watched from over her shoulder as Tattletale guessed the keycode for the back door, landing it after only only false try. She, Grue, and Regent were dead silent as they slipped inside, Regent easing the heavy door shut behind them with only a soft click. Bitch waited outside with the dogs, concentrating on them as they began to slowly grow.

Inside the door was a typical break room; coffee pot, vending machine, TV playing a news station with the volume turned low. They passed through into a short hallway with three doors, one on either side and one at the other end.

 Grue held up one hand and directed Regent and Tattletale to their positions: Regent at the closed door that led to the security room, Tattletale to the loot. Grue took his place in front of the door at the end of the hall, beyond which was the public area of the store.

The room Tattletale entered was set up with two long tables, strewn with various valuables, and set in the floor between them a large safe. A woman sat at one of the tables, a magnifying glass over one eye as she inspected and cleaned a ring. She looked up as Tattletale came in, startled and turned white, and one hand twitched down under the table and then jerked right back up.

“Uh-uh,” Regent said in a whisper, peeking in over Tattletale’s head, wagging a finger at the woman chidingly. “No alarms.”

Tattletale shoved at him, hissing, “Get back to your post, I had this handled. The alarm is disabled.”

“You think,” Regent tossed out as he went back to listening through his door. The security officer was watching a looped feed, but at some point he might notice that today’s cameras were looking a lot like last week’s.

“Don’t worry, we aren’t going to hurt you,” Tattletale said to the woman as she slinged the duffle bag down from her back. “Just gonna pile up with as much as we can carry, and then you’ll never see us again. Step back from the table.”

“A-Alright,” the woman said, holding up her hands in the classic surrender pose. “Hey, look, I’m not going to fight you over this stuff. They don’t pay me for that.”

“Smart lady,” Tattletale said, winking at her. She stepped up to the table and with a sweep of her arm gathered almost half of it in one go, diamonds and gold and delicate instruments alike. Another moment and the other half was clear too, leaving just the one nearest the woman - and the locked safe in the floor.

“I don’t suppose you know the combination for that thing?” Tattletale asked her, pointing. “No, didn’t think so. Do you know who set it? Yes. Manager? Owner? Owner.” She paused, thoughtful. “Okay, you’re going to go out in the hall where my friends can watch you. Go on. Now.”

Slowly, the woman edged around the wall toward the door. Her gaze darted between Tattletale and something on the table twice.

Tattletale noticed it too, following her eyes to a bracelet. It was just plain gold links with four little charms hanging off of it, easily one of the cheapest things in the room even to my amateur estimation.

“That yours?” Tattletale guessed. At the woman’s dreadful nod, she shrugged. “Sucks. I’ll take good care of it, promise.”

The woman’s lips trembled and her jaw clenched. I saw her consider attacking Tattletale right there. Then she took a shuddering breath and went out into the hall.

“If you don’t leave that bracelet behind, I will take it from you.” I said to Tattletale, in a whisper right by her ear.

“I thought you’d be watching,” she said, grinning. “Don’t worry, she’ll get it back. It looks bad if we leave one lady’s personal item behind, makes her look complicit to her bosses. I’ll stick it in her mailbox tomorrow and tell her to keep it hidden for a while.”

As Tattletale continued her pilfering, I checked on the others through my Dust eyes. Grue holding down the handle on his door, ensuring that he’d feel it if someone was trying to come through, Regent leaning against the security door and making his best intimidating face at the woman, who now stood across from him and slightly to one side against the wall, hands still up, her brows furrowed as she tried to figure out if she should be taking him seriously or not.

“Regent,” Grue hissed. When he had Regent’s attention, his head jerked towards Tattletale’s room.

Regent peeked in; Tattletale looked up from the safe she was cracking, raised two fingers, and went back to work. Regent ducked out and flashed Grue a peace sign. Grue flipped him off.

The security door jostled as the guard tried to exit and found that the door was stuck. I piled more Dust into the edges and the hinges, blocking him in. I had seen him squinting at one of the monitors suspiciously.

Grue and Regent looked away from the door, to each other again.

“Did you do something to the door?” Grue asked, in a normal volume.

Regent was just as surprised as he was. “Not me. Tats?”

I’d combed the security office for a silent alarm button, and covered both of the ones I found with Dust so that they couldn’t be pushed. Stupidly, I’d missed the one the guard kept on him, a little black fob on his keyring.

In the hall and both rooms, a red light near the fire alarm began to flash.

“That’s our cue to bail,” Grue said. “Tattletale! Move it or lose it!” He pulled a smooth river rock out of his messenger bag and pitched it hard at the back door, landing with a loud bang; Bitch’s signal.

Tattletale finished dumping the tray of diamonds into a little cloth bag, leaving the tray of empty gold and silver settings. She pulled the drawstring tight, tossed it into the duffel, and zipped up in a smooth motion. “Moving it!”

“Ready to smash and grab?” Grue said, and then shoved open the door he’d been guarding.

“Bitch better be in position,” Regent said.

The three of them burst through, splitting off to three different display cases. As Grue said, they smashed the safety glass and snatched up whole displays, scooping up whatever else they could reach at the same time. Regent and Grue stuffed theirs into messenger bags hanging from their shoulders, Tattletale tipped hers into a side pocket.

The front doors, swinging double doors made of bulletproof glass, crumpled under the charging shoulder of one of Bitch’s dogs. It staggered back, shaking its head, and Regent, Tattletale, and Grue came running out. Darkness had already filled the store behind them and spilled out now into the street, moving as fast as a tidal wave.

The darkness reached and washed over the first hero responders: Clockblocker and Aegis, on patrol for all of Lord Street. My breath caught, and my human eyes opened to stare at a black-speckled drop-ceiling.

The two Wards stopped when the darkness surrounded them; I knew where they were by the Dust surrounding their bodies, the same way I was keeping track of the Undersiders as Grue rounded them up and got them onto the dogs. Then Clockblocker reached out with one hand, slow and careful until he hit Aegis’ arm, and they clung to each other. Then they started to move toward the Undersiders.

I thought it was a stupid risk at first, walking around in darkness so complete you can’t see your hand in front of your face, but then they detoured smoothly around a trash can and bench on the sidewalk. Somehow, they could see.

The planned escape route passed right by the Wards, but both Aegis and Clockblocker were still looking forward as though they couldn’t see the Undersiders, at the same time they could clearly see past the smoke. What was going on?

Clockblocker had one hand wrapped around Aegis’ wrist, dangerously close to _holding hands_. That was strange, and there was no reason for it unless Clockblocker’s Striker aspect was in use. I realized with a shock of admiration that he wasn’t seeing through Grue’s darkness; he’d rewound time for himself and Aegis, taking them back to a moment that the darkness didn’t exist. Which meant he couldn’t see the Undersiders in the present as they mounted the dogs, but he could get himself and Aegis close to their last known position.

Grue had noticed them, being the only one able to see through his power. He’d just finished boosting Tattletale up onto one of the dogs, and he tapped her on the calf, a prearranged signal that everyone was loaded up. By that point his darkness covered the whole street, and was seeping out into the streets on either side. 

Grue stepped in front of the Ward duo, waving one hand in front of their faces to no reaction, and then stepped to the side to avoid them. He went back to the dogs, heaved himself up onto the leader Brutus, and nudged the pack into motion.

But there was more to the Wards than just Clockblocker’s power; Aegis turned to the side as they passed, his head tilted up. The dogs could smell through the dark, I remembered, and when Aegis lost some senses he developed new ones to compensate. 

Still, the last thing I expected was for him to grab onto Clockblocker and _throw him_ at the Undersiders.

Clockblocker took his sudden flight in stride, jerking his arms up over his head to protect it. I supposed that, as long as he survived impact, he could rewind whatever injuries he got.

Clockblocker went barrelling toward Tattletale, knocking her off the dog and jostling the bag she’d hooked through some of the horns. They went tumbling onto the road, narrowly missing a car that had parked when the darkness came down, and I kept both of them unharmed by the reckless fall. Clockblocker reached out sightlessly, hand flexed open in a way I recognized as precursor to his usual freeze-touch.

“Sorry, Clock, not this one.” I said, raising my voice to be heard. A shield of Dust came between them and froze when Clockblocker touched it, dropping out of my awareness.

“Lazarus?!” Clockblocker exclaimed, nearly a whisper with the dampening effect of the darkness.

Grue came sweeping through on Brutus, using one hand on the dog’s horns to guide it and the other reaching down to grab onto Lisa. She grabbed back, and I gave her a little boost to mount up.

Aegis, meanwhile, had followed up on his throw. The forward movement of the dogs carried Bitch and Regent into the same path that he’d thrown Clockblocker on, so he went flying right into the side of their dog’s jaw. Judas reacted about the same way I assume any dog would, turning his head into the blow and snapping. He only clipped Aegis on the shoulder.

“Clockblocker,” I said. I’d agonized for an hour over what I should say online, how I could tell him that none of this was his fault.

In person, though, I suddenly knew exactly what needed to be said.

Aegis had found one of his targets and seemed determined not to let it go, trying to get past the dog’s head to the people on its back. Judas was having none of it, tracking Aegis by scent alone and wheeling in place to keep him in front. Eventually Aegis made a mistake and was caught around one thigh, Judas’ teeth sinking in deep. I winced.

“I’m sorry for not answering you earlier,” I said. For the first time I wished my Dust voice could convey emotion, sincerity. “I don’t blame you, so stop blaming yourself… idiot.”

He wasn’t shouting so I couldn’t hear him, but I felt his jaw drop open and the corners of his mouth turn up.

Judas immediately started whipping Aegis from side to side like a floppy toy; Bitch felt the motion and shouted, “Throw!” Judas finished one more shake and let Aegis go flying at the end of it. He caught himself in the air, breathing heavily and seeping a bit of blood, but apparently too turned around to find the dog again.

“Tattletale was helping me track down the Empire, so I owed her a favor.” Not really a true portrayal of my relationship with her and the rest of the Undersiders, but that was a little much to get into right there. “If only Aegis threw you at any of the others….”

He laughed again and said, “You liked that? Renick told us we couldn’t do it, but in this shit, who would know?” He waved, indicating the darkness.

The Undersiders had regrouped down a quieter sidestreet still under cover of Grue’s power, changing out of their costumes and stashing the loot in the drop spot: a garbage can that their boss would have emptied by some other employee.

“This darkness is all going to be gone in a minute, and I’ll have to leave. I’ll… I’ll message you back, though. Sorry it took me this long.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine, you had a lot going on right? Hey, are you… actually here?” One hand was waving around in front of him, as though trying to find my body.

Which was a block away, lying down and smiling at an empty room. “I’m here, there, and everywhere in range of my power. If you mean my physical body… no. That’s someplace safer.”

“Oh.” His hand dropped. Disappointed? It was hard to tell without _seeing_. “Talk to you later then, I guess?”

The darkness was dissipating. The Undersiders had split up, Alec and Lisa clutching at each other pretending to be a terrified couple, Bitch leading her three dogs away through alleys and small side streets, Brian pressed against a storefront like a man searching for something to hold on to in the complete darkness. If I didn’t know better, even I would buy their act.

“Later,” I promised Clockblocker.

* * *

 

The Undersiders reconvened at their loft, trailing in one after another as they became certain they weren’t being tracked. Bitch had called Lisa to let her know she was okay, but that she was taking the dogs out for a run and wouldn’t be back for a while.

“So… that went well,” Alec surmised, laying back on the couch with a soda can balanced on his stomach, one hand holding it loosely.

“Yeah,” Brian agreed. “Too well. Taylor, you have anything you wanna tell us?”

I sipped on the tea Lisa had brought me, sitting at the island in the kitchen, and considered lying. Why bother, though? “No, not really. Why, did you have something you wanted to ask me?”

“Cut it out, you’re as bad as Alec. Jesus, I already have one childish ass to look out for.” My eyes narrowed, offended. “Did you follow us out there?”

“Yep. Held the door closed, kept Clockblocker from tagging Tattletale. Just a couple nudges here and there.”

“C’mon, Brian,” Lisa said, her tone soothing. “She only helped. That could have gone a _lot_ worse if she wasn’t there.”

“I thought she didn’t want to help?” Brian demanded. Then he took a deep breath, shoved Alec’s legs off the couch - “Fuck you,” Alec growled, kicking him - and sat down heavily. “I’m not trying to be a jerk about it. It’s just that you said you didn’t want to help, and we planned for us four. You being involved could have messed something up. If you’d changed your mind, you could have said something. I would have been willing to split the cut.”

 _Would have been_. Ah, so part of this was about money. “Don’t want a cut,” I said, “And I didn’t change my mind. I don’t want to be a villain… or I guess I should say I don’t want people to know I’m a villain. I don’t actually have a problem with breaking laws or whatever.” I frowned, thinking of how else to explain it. Both Brian and Alec were looking perplexed.

“Yeah, that’s what secret identities are for,” Alec said.

“Which I don’t have,” I reminded him. “I mean… I decided to help you guys out this time because I could, and nothing can really be traced back to me. So no one else knows.”

“No one like the Protectorate or the Wards,” Lisa added, saying what I couldn’t. “As in, the people she got to be pretty friendly with?”

I wouldn’t care if they were disappointed, I thought. But I wasn’t sure, and why take the risk if I didn’t have to?

Brian stared stonily at the blank TV screen. Alec tried to put his feet back up in Brian’s lap and was shoved away. Lisa gave me a thumbs up and a series of expressions probably meant to communicate something, but I didn’t really get it. Alec flipped on the TV and put on the news, which was reporting on their heist.

Finally, Brian stood up, making his way over to the island. “Taylor…” _Uh oh_. “Thank you for your help today. But, in the future, I’d appreciate it if you just… stayed away from our jobs.”

“Brian!” Lisa’s voice was sharp, warning.

Dust stirred around our feet. _I was only trying to help._

Brian raised his hands in surrender to Lisa. “Hear me out! Look, if you wanted to be a part of the team, I’d still take you in a heartbeat. But staying half on the sidelines, giving it half your effort… that doesn’t sit right with me. You want to play both sides, that means you’re not committed. We do a few jobs with your ‘help’, we get used to just having ‘good luck’ on every job, we get to depending on you… then what happens if you leave? Or when you decide you’ve had enough of playing villain? What if that happens right in the middle of a job? We’d be crippled, and have nothing to show for it.”

“That’s a lot from you. You don’t even stay here at the hideout with the rest of us,” Lisa said.

“That’s different, and you know it. _My_ commitment isn’t in question.” Brian looked at me. “Those are my reasons. I think it should be all… or nothing.”

I tried not to look at Lisa, then realized it would probably be weird if I didn’t look at her at all for some input. She had an expression of ‘ _I’m sorry he’s like this,_ ’ on her face, playing her part almost perfectly. If this feeling of being on the inside of a plot was something you felt every time, I was starting to realize why people liked plotting so much. I bit my lip, trying for thoughtful, and focused on my Dust to dissipate the nervous laughter threatening to bubble up.

“Alright,” I said. “You’re right, I guess. It’s not fair to you guys to take on all the heat that comes with having me around, and none of the benefits.”

Brian looked relieved, sighing.

“But there is still _a lot_ of heat on me, right now,” I said, “So… I’ll join up. Call me an Undersider, but maybe don’t take out ad space. The longer I stay hidden, the better off the rest of you guys are.”

“So long as you come through where it counts, I don’t need to advertise,” Brian nodded.

Alec called out from the couch, “Hey, does this mean she gets put on the chore chart?”

“You could _give her a second!_ ” Lisa shouted back. Then she grinned at me. “Glad to have you on the team, Taylor. You can move in here with us, or I guess since _some people_ are already doing it, you can keep staying at the apartment.”

“She never shuts up about it,” Brian muttered, rolling his eyes and turning away to the fridge.

“I’ll move in,” I decided. The apartment was empty and too quiet even on a good day, and Lisa and the others were here most of the time. If I wanted to stay close to her, moving in was the easiest way. “Let me go pick up a few things.”

“Want company?” Lisa offered.

“I’m not fuckin’ helping anybody move,” Alec announced. “Done enough of that shit already.”

“No, it’s just a few things. Box of tea, the laptop, clothes. Can I borrow a bag? Mine’s filled with cash.” From when I’d captured Stormtiger.

“Sure, I’ve got a bunch stored in the apartment. Check the coat closet.”

“Alright. See you in a bit, then. Alec, when I come back I’ll kick your ass in Mortal Kombat.”

“You wish, nerd,” Alec said. He was already switching over to the console, probably to start practicing.

“You guys are killing me with these video game things,” Lisa complained.

I jumped down from the loft rather than take the stairs, startling Bitch at the bottom when I landed, where she’d been eavesdropping. Her lip curled when she realized it was me, and then she squinted at me and her jaw clenched.

“You joining up?” she asked. I thought back and realized these were the first words she’d actually said to me.

“Yeah. You worried about me taking your cut?”

“I’m not worried,” Bitch snapped. Then, somehow even more aggressively, “You shouldn’t _be_ on the team.”

“Thanks.” I moved sideways, trying to get around her and her dogs to the door.

“You should be leading it.”

I stopped, eyes wide, and looked at her. She turned her head to the side to avoid looking back.

“You’re stronger than me, stronger than Grue. Should be you. That’s why he was trying to drive you away.”

That was… a unique perspective, I thought. Not an idea I would have had; Brian was right about my refusal to commit to his team. But I knew it said something about how _Bitch_ thought.

“If he was trying to get me out, it really backfired on him.” I said.

“You’ll fight him eventually,” she said, then stepped to the side to let me pass.

As I pushed open the door into the dark evening, I pulled my phone out and thumbed over to the number I’d programmed in.

Lisa’s plan wasn’t a bad one, but it would take a long time, and I wasn’t confident about my own ability to be ‘undercover’. I thought I might be able to speed things up.

After all, even if Coil had agents in the PRT, there was no way he had _Alexandria’s_ number in his pocket.


	25. Wraith 3.8

In the interest of fairness, I decided that I should probably respond to my PHO messages like I’d promised before calling Alexandria.

Something simple, easy. I looked up at Dennis’ last message, and started typing in the text box.

_Vista says she didn’t pass out and that you’re a liar._

I switched tabs back to the inbox, intending to re-read and maybe answer some of the other messages while I waited for a response. Dennis must have had alerts sent right to his phone, though, because he responded almost immediately.

_U talk to her n not me?? Im offended_

_Just reading her old messages too, about to respond to them._

_I meant what I said before. I don’t blame you even a little bit. You’re making me mad that you blame yourself._

_Yeah well if i didnt tell u about it, u wouldnt have left. So._

_I would have, I just would have had to do it from the ready room, which means a lot more damage and traumatized troopers. I would have to cut my body up into little bits to fit through the air vents, and nobody wants to see that._

_LOL ur fuckin sick. Anybody else tell me that id say there lying._

_They’re*, you illiterate._

I checked the time, comparing it to the heist timeline and factoring in travel.

_Shouldn’t you be in debriefing?_

_Just got done._

My train of thought stalled, wondering what else I could say. There was so much, and I wasn’t sure where to start.

_So uh u got a new team now right?_

As good a place as any, I thought.

_Maybe. I’m with them for a little while but… I don’t know about permanently. Still weighing some options._

_They’re nice, though. Not good people, but nice to me. I like spending time with them._

_Star-crossed. What u gonna do if u have to face us villain vs hero?_

_Not likely. If I take Alexandria’s offer, I won’t be in Brockton Bay for much longer._

_I KNEW she was here for u!!! Kid said no way_

_What does she want? What offer???_

_Come on I got 20$ riding with Kid on this_

I stopped typing to glare at the screen for a moment. I used keyboard shortcuts to cut what I’d written so far.

_Calm down and wait for me to finish typing._

I pasted the cut words back in and continued typing. As my fingers tried to keep up, I thought about the offer again.

One Ward to come with me. I’d snap-narrowed it down to Missy, but my first instinct had been Dennis. An angry, petty thought wished that his dad was dead already so he wouldn’t have anything tying him here, but I recognized that for what it was and dismissed it. Then I remembered Tattletale saying that Alexandria was still _low-balling_ her offer.

Could I get her to lean on Panacea for a healing? Could she bring in another healer to fix him up? If I made that a condition… I could have what I wanted. A friend, the easy routine of the Wards, a fresh start.

Away from everything familiar, half of me locked away under regulations and public relations, chafing at the bit. That was the trade-off, of course. To get something you have to give something up.

_She offered me a place on my pick of any of the Trium’s Ward teams, including hers, and if one of you wanted to come with she’d transfer 1 of the ENE Wards with me. I’m still thinking about it, because I’ve lived my whole life in the Bay and this is where my family was… I don’t know if I want to leave._

_Y do u hav to leave?_

_I killed people, Clock._

_They decided that I wasn’t at fault for Cricket, but I reduced Kaiser and 3 other people to dust._

~~_I was angry_ ~~

~~_It was impulsive_ ~~

I stopped, took a deep breath. Centered myself.

_So I can’t really stick around here with the name Lazarus, calling myself a hero. I would have to move, get rebranded and renamed, use my powers in a different way so people can’t make the connection._

_Witness protection program 4 paras. They did something like that for Stalker, tho she wouldnt let them change her name_

The comparison sent a flash of anger through me, but I realized he wouldn’t know my history with Sophia. I spared a moment to wonder at the people I’d left behind - if I went into school tomorrow, would Emma have the guts to try to pick up where she left off? Was she scared now?

_GTG, the others are back from their patrols. Talk later ok?_

_Later._

I went through the other messages, answering Missy and Aegis fairly easily. I dithered over what to say to Dean - I didn’t forgive him, really, even if I understood. We hadn’t been close; I couldn’t expect him to stick his neck out for me like Dennis did. Eventually I typed out _I know whose fault it is, and they’re in custody now_ , and sent it along.

Miss Militia got a similar message: _I responded to the others_ . Acknowledging without absolving. I wanted her to remember the mistake and be _better_ next time.

Then I picked up my phone.

* * *

It rang five times, enopugh that I became worried she wouldn’t pick up. She had to be busy, I thought. It was - I checked the time - nearing ten at night. Was she one of the capes who didn’t need sleep, like Militia?

The line connected. “Alexandria,” she said. “Who is this?”

“It’s - ” _Real name, cape name,_ “Lazarus. I’m ready to talk, hear what you have to say.”

“That’s very good to hear,” her voice was warm, satisfied. “I have news that would be better delivered in person. Why don’t you meet me at this address?” She rattled off a location in an area I recognized as downtown, in ex-Empire territory.

“Can do that,” I said, abruptly remembering I was probably being traced. I wanted to drop the call as fast as possible. “When?”

“I can be there in ten minutes. That work for you?”

“See you then,” I said, and hit end call as fast as I could. Stupid to have forgotten. I’d already packed up everything I wanted to keep, so the apartment was okay to burn, but I felt foolish that it was even necessary.

It might be a trap, so I devoted my ten minutes and flight time to reviewing all the ways Alexandria might be able to counter my powers. She couldn’t kill me, obviously. It would be difficult to trap me for any length of time with the amount of Dust I now had on hand, and the Protectorate would know that.

On the other hand, I had revealed to them that my Dust dissipates if it leaves my range, and she can fly faster than I can move my Dust. If she just tackle-shoved me out of an area fast enough, I’d lose any Dust not latched on to me.

To resolve that, I split my Dust in half on the way to the Gallery. Half to me, creating massive wings and an invisible trailing cloak. The other half formed Coryn, bigger than she’d ever been before. She was the only construct that I knew could operate without my personal direction.

“Protect me,” I told her. “And… if we get separated and you can’t find me, find Tattletale. Tell her what happened. She’ll help you find me.”

She didn’t nod or acknowledge in any way, because I hadn’t released control of her Dust and I wasn’t interested in pretending for an audience of myself. I knew that she understood.

“Okay. Showtime.”

I split off a couple of sensors to search for the building number as I flew above, but that turned out to be unnecessary; the right place was marked by Alexandria standing on the roof. I rejoined my sensors and created eyes all over my cloak and Coryn to make up for the lack of my usual awareness, but I still felt nearly blind. Coryn stayed in the air as I dropped down next to Alexandria.

“Lazarus,” Alexandria greeted. “Or do you prefer Taylor?”

I calmed myself, smoothing out nerves and clearing my mind. Not even the chilling wind could touch me through the Dust I’d armored myself with. “Lazarus is fine. What is this important information you have for me? Why are we meeting here?”

“It’s about what happened with the Empire and your father,” she began. I thought about telling her I’d found out some things on my own already, but no, it was better to hear what she had to say first. “Initial investigations led us to the Empire as response for leaking your identity, and given the… slant of the information provided with it, it was an easy trail to follow. Too easy, some would say.”

She paused, and I motioned with one hand, _Go on_. She couldn’t have noticed what I was doing - or failing to do. She didn’t have blood and muscle and meat to her the way other people did. Her heart beat at a constant, regular pace… about ten times per minute. It pushed something like blood through a limited circulatory system, which connected to the heart, lungs, and brain, and nothing else. I felt withered crystalized vestiges of organs, things from when she was a human being; a stomach with no acid storing undigested masticated food, intestines with no movement or bacteria.

Nobody who saw this could call her human anymore.

Oddly, it made me like her more.

“When he turned himself in, Crusader was able to provide the address of the site where they were holding your father. We were hoping to recover the body for you.”

I hadn’t even really thought about his body; it was just a shell. The important part of it was gone. Even at my mother’s funeral, I hadn’t understood the point of honoring her vestige. I hadn’t wanted to look into her casket. Headstones and monuments to the dead made sense as a way to honor and remember them; the ghoulish obsession with corpses did not.

“There was no body, but we found other evidence. You may want to look for yourself.” She gestured to the roof we were standing on - no, to the building below us.

“Here?” I asked.

“The basement. The door is unlocked.” She nodded at the fire escape, since the building didn’t have roof access on the top.

I went down, Alexandria following but allowing me a more than reasonable amount of personal space. There were three floors to go through, the top two residential and the ground floor was a typical downtown convenience store.

I busted the lock at the bottom of the stairs and let us in. The front windows were plastered completely in ads for cigarettes and lottery tickets. The only light came from streetlamps filtering in through the steel and glass door, which had a security gate pulled across it.

“Should we be in here?” I asked, though I wasn’t truly worried about it. I looked around the darkened shelves packed with snacks and overpriced microwave meals. Oh, my favorite brand of chips.

“The place is owned by Victor through some other companies. The employees bailed out after you captured Krieg, haven’t been back since.”

I nodded and picked up a bag of chips. My Dust saw Alexandria sigh slightly as I tore them open and started eating. “I’m hungry,” I defended myself.

“Chips aren’t really going to help with that.”

“Taste good though.” I thought about offering her some, then remembered her digestion was broken. She would probably already have to throw up whatever she’d eaten to keep her cover as a human being; no need to add to that. Instead I said, “Where’s the basement?”

“Back room, we already passed it. If you’re done snacking?” She sounded resigned but not really annoyed.

“No, but they’re portable.” It was no wonder that Lisa liked needling people. Their reactions were kind of fun.

I lifted myself over the counter and through another locked door to the back room. There were two more doors back there, one to the alley outside and one with stairs leading down.

The basement was exactly as I remembered it. The camera had been placed at the bottom of the stairs, looking into the rest of the room. It was completely empty and too spotlessly clean, especially compared to the clutter and filth upstairs. A facade, apparently.

There was a brownish stain on the floor, puddled and trickling toward an old disused sump pit. It was dry, but I was familiar with the color of old blood.

“We tested it,” Alexandria said as I stared. It happened here while I was half the city away. “In lieu of a body, it’s the best confirmation of death for a death certificate. It’s pig’s blood.”

“...Say that again.”

“Pig’s blood. Not human. Not his.”

_Black balaclava. Three shots. Red blood._

_Center chest, right over the heart._

I’ve been shot like that before. I know it from inside and out. The heart is gone, destroyed. The blood doesn’t spray out because there’s no pressure on it. They got it _perfectly_ right.

Why not a head shot?

Because they’re harder to fake.

Pig’s blood.

_He’s alive._

I became dimly aware that Alexandria was still talking. “We’re still trying to track down leads. It’s become obvious now that this was a trick to get you to kill Kaiser and remove the Empire from play. We’re still trying to figure out what player set the trick up. Our best guess at the moment is that Accord is trying to move into the Bay area, since this sort of convoluted plan is exactly his preference.”

If I told her, she would wonder how I knew. In order to have my information taken seriously, I would need to explain how I got it. I’d be exposing Tattletale and the rest of the Undersiders to more attention and scrutiny than they ever signed on for.

But, on the other hand, I would have a lot more backup for taking on Coil.

“It’s not Accord,” I said. “It’s Coil, the mercenary gang’s leader.”

Alexandria tilted her head to one side. “You sound very sure. How do you know? Did he contact you?”

“I know someone who works for him, who really doesn’t want to work for him anymore. I’ve been helping her get out from under his thumb. In exchange, she told me all about his power and his secret plans.”

“Coil has a power?” Alexandria said it with mild surprise. “What is it?”

I was tired of staring at a fake bloodstain and bare grey walls. “Let’s leave, first. I’ll explain on the way out.”

She listened in silence through my explanation, not even prying when I blatantly avoided elaborating on my source.

On the street outside, I took a deep calming breath and immediately regretted it. Apparently this block had trash collection in the morning, and it was beginning to smell like rot.

“I know you said that Coil has people in the PRT, but I still want to bring in the Protectorate.” Alexandria said, starting to hover a few inches off the ground. I raised myself up to match her, and eventually we were flying above the rooftops and the stink of the city. “Unless you think he’s compromised one of the local Protectorate?”

I considered it carefully, running over my knowledge of the city’s heroes. None of them really fit, though. And I felt that Lisa would have mentioned it if any of them were working for Coil.

“No, they should be trustworthy.”

She nodded. “And I want you to come with me.” She caught the look I sent her. “I don’t assume that you’ll be coming back permanently, and I think you’re smart enough to realize we don’t plan on trapping you. I just want to coordinate with you. What’s your plan now that you know your father is likely still alive?”  
Lisa mentioned that Coil seemed to like underground bases best, like the snake he’d named himself after. I had planned to start sifting through the earth with my Dust until I found him. Lisa’s longer timetable was no longer remotely acceptable.

“Start looking,” I said. “Save my dad, then kill Coil whenever I find him.”

“Do you know for sure that will work?” Alexandria’s lips pressed together for a moment, thoughtful. “Lazarus… let us help you. Remember what happened the last time you didn’t.”

At least this time she meant for the reminder to serve a purpose. If I didn’t let them help me, I would be making the exact same mistake. If you don’t learn from your mistakes you’ll keep making the same ones.

“I’ll come with you,” I said. “But I’m not a Ward anymore. You don’t try to cut me out, or try to protect me. No one makes a decision for me. Deal?”

Alexandria smiled. “Deal.”


End file.
